


Cherished Foe

by Maxx2DXtreame



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Mob, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mafia Sans (Undertale), Other, mafiatale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-07-13 21:40:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 57,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16026497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maxx2DXtreame/pseuds/Maxx2DXtreame
Summary: 1920's, a time of flappers, broadcast radio and jazz. At least that's just the glamorous side of the spectrum, on the other end is mobsters, inequality and the ever growing poverty rate. 1928- Is where this story begins, Mercy City, or Sin City is what the majority of the city's residence tends to call it. One resident in particular for sure knows first hand that Mercy City definitely lives up to it's reputation as the most violent city in all the county.... Hell, the world even.Meet Frisk, just one of many of the working Joes that tries to scrape on by from paycheck to paycheck. Working day in and day out with honest jobs that hardly pay anything respectable at all, but he's not worried about that. At least, not until a certain encounter, that figured out his deadly secret, says otherwise.





	1. Sin City and my Luck

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sooner or Later You're Gonna be Mine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8614135) by [Staringback](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Staringback/pseuds/Staringback). 



> Please note, I am a comic artist and am more comfortable in drawing out stories than writing them. So please bear with me, constructive criticism will be highly appreciated. Just don't go out and be blatantly insulting please and I hope you enjoy the concept if the reading is just too hard and cringy for you.
> 
> Yes, this is inspired by Staringback's work of Sooner or Later You're Gonna Be Mine

Summer 1928, Monday- A metal slab that reads _2020_ , on the side of a door where a young man exists. He calls out just in mid-closing, “Yaw! I’m headin’ ta work.”

“Okay, see ya when ya get home, Frisky baby!” A woman with blonde hair and a loose fitting dress said teasingly as another man wraps his arms around her tiny waist and buried his face in her chest.

 _Frisky_ , as the young man was called, closes the door completely and takes a look at his watch fastened to his right wrist, the watch appears to have seen better days. The face scratched up, the leather feathering on both edges and the second hand out of rhythmic sync ticking after every other beat where there would have been a _tick_. The watch reads a quarter to nine.

“Still got plenty of time…” the young man said relived.

The sky dark and street lights flickering, the young man exists what appears to be a 6 story apartment complex and heads westward.

 _Frisky_ , actually Frisk to be correct, is wearing a white crisp button up long sleeve dress shirt, black lace-up oxfords, a jet black vest and matching trousers. His completion tan with a ghost of dark circles under his eyes. Standing at 5’3”, he runs his fingers through his dark brown hair in a slicked back style, while his jacket rested in his free arm. Completing his ensemble is a worn down messenger bag, with the strap nestled on his left shoulder and the bag rested on his right hip.

Reminiscing on the last time he took this route to work and shudders as he approaches his first of many 4 way intersections. Don’t get the wrong idea, there’s nothing special about this intersection or any of the other intersections, to normal people anyway. To Frisk, these intersections and all the others that he cuts across through are more like his reminders of his chance encounter of death. He has taken this course countless times and knows every step by heart, so confident if he were to ever go blind he’d know every curb, every crack and every street light that was on route to _Mark’s Place_ , a small joint just at the edge of Eastern Division.

 **Just leaving Tait Street…** Frisk thought as his mind flashes to one incident that happened to him the last time he walked through this avenue. An instance where he heard gun shots rang out through the street, though he didn’t dare glance over at the time and still reluctant to glance over now.

To get to _Mark’s Place_ , Frisk would have to walk through 4 intersections, cross the bridge and an additional 2 more intersections before making a right turn. It was practically a straight shot, a cake walk one might say, but with his luck he believes that he’d be lucky if somehow every thug, prostitute and drug dealer decided to be on their best behavior. Frisk could only imagine that as being wishful thinking.

 **Sigh… Welcome to Sin City… my home…** he thought.

Well, Sin City is not actually its name, it’s the name most people who “scrape through every nickel and dime just to get by” called it. Arguably, that’s what everyone called it, nobody called it by its real name on the fact that most people didn’t think it suit it. At one point, people were proud to be living in this city, but now it’s a broken shell of what it used to be. Now, the city is divided up into 4 domains, 9 divisions, used to be controlled by a powerful mafia family is now divided by wannabe mafia members trying to pick up where the family left off. Weather people were better off living in fear of an organized crime family that were consistent with their protection fees or dealing with unpredictable thugs inconsistently demanding protection money at random, the mafia seemed more merciful than the thugs. The thugs may not be the real deal, but that didn’t mean they weren’t just as lethal. As for the cops, they tried (key word “tried”) to keep up with the ongoing crimes that plagued the city. Though the chief of police seems to have a hard time trying to keep tabs differencing the good cops from his straight out corrupt cops from crossing the line.

As for the people themselves, it was every man, woman and monster for themselves. Yes, that’s right, monsters. Frisk, lived all his life around diverse races, ethnicities and even species. Monsters are not new to him, he grew up being around monsters and they didn’t bother much to anyone’s concern, until 5 years ago when more monsters started showing up. The only reason why the sudden surge in monster population is the same reason for the immigration boom too, work. After that, the human communities started banning together to keep their city as monster free as possible or at least in the districts that mattered. Since there were no laws for monsters’ or any monsters working in politics at the time, the humans took advantage of making up policies and designated zones for where monsters can live and work. Of course, the zones where they designated their living and working quarters are in the same districts as those suffering under the poverty level which are overcrowded areas to begin with. Many people didn’t appreciate the sudden invasion of monsters, especially since most people have emigrated from other parts of the world and never even seen monsters before and the rumors that came with them start spreading fast.

As for Frisk, working at _Mark’s Place_ , he is no stranger to chin music and has seen his fair share too. It didn’t take long for him to come to the conclusion that a new mafia has set sights on his already ruined city, the only thing he’d never imagine is monster mobsters. Frisk recalled all the events in his mind where he started suspecting a pattern that led to this conclusion. First, it’d start out with monsters approaching mom and pop shops in pairs. Then, without warning, the shop will be closed for 2 to 3 days. Finally, the shop reopens with a brand new makeover with either the owner with some extra monster muscle or the owner being replaced by a monster entirely. As for the missing owner, Frisk couldn’t bring himself to ask since he doesn’t want to push his luck.

Course, Frisk doesn’t think all monsters are in on whatever these new monsters were doing. Some of his neighbors are monsters and known them even before the monster population blew. He knows that most monsters are just as much as in the dark as the humans are about this whole monster mob running things. Unfortunately, most humans don’t see that…

 **It’s a shame really…** Frisk thought as a memory of another instance flashes in his mind. An incident that he encountered 3 weeks prior on his way to Mark’s. Frisk is one to think of himself as an individual that can’t help but bring unwanted attention to himself. Already looking like an immigrant despite being born in this country, he knows just one gaze could mean harassment or even the not so rarer occasion getting the shit kicked out of him from the purebred white individuals. More than enough experiences like that made him start walking in public with his eyes staring straight down and his head not so held high anymore. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case in this memory, instead of just keeping his eyes straight and his head down Frisk took a glimpse that caught his eye while passing an alley. A rabbit monster shielding her little brother as 3 humans gang up to terrorize them. He didn’t know the situation, hell, he didn’t even know the monsters that were being tormented at all. All he knew was that he had to do something when a glitter of light hit his face and immediately all rational thought left him from that moment on. During the aftermath, Frisk was convinced that he would have been left to rot in that alley if it weren’t for the rabbit monster decided to come back for Frisk when the coast was clear. When he finally got to work that night, his hours got pushed back. Frisk recalls the look on his boss’ face, Mark was both stupefied and impressed at Frisk’s dedication to coming to work as Mark would of describe Frisk’s condition as “one foot in the grave”.

Though to be fair, Frisk would argue “What could I’ve done, I couldn’t just stand there?” as normal people would have just let it be. Frisk on the other hand admits that he gets more bleedings and bruises from protecting monsters than all of the jobs he had in this city combined. With that, his fellow humans (or at least the ones who didn’t know him/ beat him), call him “Monster Lover”, to Frisk responded with, “Whatever gets the attention off the monsters is better than nothin’… I guess.”

As a result, humans don’t like him and for monsters, they wouldn’t want to be around him in fear of being a burden to him, which was just his luck. Eventually, Frisk knew that there were repercussions to helping monsters and loneliness was one of them. Except, he’s not alone at least not what he thinks, he has hope that one day things will change for the better. In his current situation, he may not have a lot of friends but is accepting with the social interactions he gets enough of at his jobs. Even though, the people that come in to his work who may not know him, Monster Lover or otherwise, find that first impressions don’t always shine through for him. He has a pretty good understanding that monsters accept each other and come in all shapes, sizes and even species and sadly, that’s not the case with humans. It wasn’t that Frisk is shy or anything of the sort, but the image of his recent customers’ faces when they look at him is what bothers him most. Thankfully it’s not because he protects monsters, that’s the one thing that he liked about new customers is that they didn’t know his day job, not that protecting monsters was his day job. Just the fact that, he has a certain feature about himself that turns people away in disgust, he knows that he can’t really do anything about it since he was born with it.

As Frisk approaches another intersection, he couldn’t help but get feelings of dismay of the thought of work. Just as he attempts to get lot in his thoughts a low grumbling sound snaps him out of his frame of mind and looks down to see an old turtle… no tortoise, with a cane and wearing a white button up short sleeved shirt, his body language showcasing the signs of getting ready to cross the street.

Immediate overwhelming dread comes across Frisk’s face, something that pure ignorance can’t ignore as he stood there beside the tortoise. **What the hell, old man? What are ya doin’ in the middle of the night?! Ya got some kinda death wish or somethin’?!** he thought contemplating weather he should just continue on his way or staying put. Upon closer inspection, Frisk glances down and the tortoise appears to be muttering to himself.

“Errrr… Damn kids… Makin’ me wait across the street. Back in my day my elders called the shots on where we pick them up…” the old tortoise muttered.

**Don’t do it. DON’T DO IT. DON’T DO IT!**

“197 years old and makin’ me cross the street by myself… no respect… no respect at all ya’hear.”

 

At that moment, something broke. “’Scuse me, sir. Would ya like some assistance crossin’ the street?” he said bearing a forced smile. **GOD DAMMIT ALL TO HELL!**

Taken aback from the kind offer, but still remained his composure the tortoise looks Frisk up and down and back again. Awkward silence ensued until he spoke, “Nah… I’ll get there eventually. ‘Sides ya probably got somewhere ta go yourself, ‘preciate the thought though.”

“Nah, don’t sweat it.” Frisk glowed, as he steps off the curb and heads straight to the other side. **Thank god!** **Finally, I’ll get to work on time without a guilty conscience.**

Just about halfway across the street a jalopy speeds on by just inches away from Frisk’s face, still smiling all the more. Frisk barrels on through, just when he was about to step up on the curb, with one leg in the air he pivots his body to a full 180 degrees and heads back in the direction of the old tortoise. **God damn it…**

Anticipating that nothing bad will happen Frisk only prays on his journey back to the old monster that some progress was made on his behalf. **Please, just be half way there…** Frisk glances upwards and sees…. The old tortoise had just started stepping off the curb.

 **OH FOR THE LOVE OF-** not wanting to finish the thought, he darts over to the old monster and kindly lends out his hand. “Say, I actually got plenty of time, whaddya say I’ll help ya cross the street?”

Who knows how long time is perceived by a tortoise’s point of view, but for this monster, he was reluctant to say no. “Oh sure, how very kind of you.”

“Forgetaboutit, it’s my pleasure.” Frisk said as a tiny tear formed in the corner of his eye, **Sorry Mark, looks like I’m gonna be late again…** he thought, despite that it wasn’t set in stone just yet, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for the kind gesture his boss offered instead of firing his ass for being late because of a monster encounter. Now, he really feels like he needs to make it up to Mark.

Frisk sets himself behind the tortoise and places both hands on his massive shell and eases the monster forward. It wasn’t much of an impressive pace, but a lot better than the original pace that the monster was going. Just reaching the half way mark, Frisk catches a gleam from the corner of his eye. Another car is making their way, Frisk raised his arm to shield his eyes from the glaring beam. They are going to slow down, right? he thought and to his surprise it was not.

Frisk moved his hands up to grip the edge of the tortoise’s shell. The old man looks up with a puzzled look on his face. He couldn’t see Frisk cause of the shell and could only make out a tiny phrase as the glare from the incoming car continues getting brighter and brighter. 

“Forgive me…”

 

Frisk and the old tortoise slammed on the ground, the tortoise shell cutting deep into his’s right inner elbow as he used part of his body to soften the monster’s fall. For the speeding automobile, sounds of laughter and mockery could be heard from inside the vehicle. 

“Hey ya missed!” a voice hollers followed by laughter from inside the car, all of which eventually fading into the night along with the vehicle.

As for the two on the ground, Frisk wincing in pain, “sssshhh… Sorry ‘bout that sir… Are you okay?” Frisk hissed.

The older gentleman rolled up steadily. “Yeah I’m alright.” He said, catching himself and keeping his balance with his cane.

Frisk follows suit, looking down at the old man inspecting and to much of Frisk’s relief other than a couple of scratches on his shell, the old man was perfectly fine on his soft exterior. Compared to how Frisk took the fall, nothing favorable could be said about his condition, disheveled would be the best term to describe it. His slicked-back hair a mess and parted in two, the white sleeves of his button up shirt scuffed, his collar uneven and unfolded, his black pants covered in dirt, and although it can’t be seen due to his sleeves, Frisk trying his hardest not to show any signs of pain after his elbow being sandwiched between a shell and the pavement. Initially, Frisk thought he only banged his arm up real bad but now, **I think I really messed up my arm…**

The old tortoise looks up at Frisk, his expression unreadable but to Frisk’s ears he can hear an wavering tone in his voice. “I didn’t expect so much from a Monday. I only expected a little help across the street, but I never imagined I get this kind of treatment from a human. You saved my life, dear boy. You could of just ran off and saved yourself, but you didn’t, this is certainly a deed that can’t go unnoticed.” The old man said with a genuine look of concern on his face. “Bless your soul, will you be okay?”

Frisk waved his hand, tired and defeated, he was still able to crack a slight smile. “Heh… Like I said, don’t sweat it.” He continues, “Pretty sure you’d do the same for me if you were in my position.”

The old man returns Frisk response with a smile and chuckles, “heh… No doubt there.” He takes another look at Frisk and his expression changed to a more impressed appearance as he gazes at Frisk’s face. “My, my… I don’t think I’ve ever seen a human with silver eyes before.” He noted.

Frisk eyes widened slightly to the comment, **I-is that a complement?** he wondered. The one feature that seems to be a factor when things go sour when he tries to socialize but always falls flat is his eyes, his glittering silver eyes. Recalling his previous encounters with humans excluding a few, all of his previous first impressions would always be out staged by his rare eye color. Countless times, people would bare their teeth in disgust, on occasion, he would hear whisperings from his customers making comments on how his eyes would freak them out or rub them the wrong way, claiming that Frisk looked like a walking corpse. However, what this encounter entailed was a lot more pleasant than what he’d expected. Of course, it was his first time hearing a monster comment about his eyes, all other times where he interacted with monsters were times in the dark or monsters running away as Frisk’s takes on their assaulters or in one case, not bringing it up just to be polite.

Despite the turn of events, Frisk knew that he was running out of time and although he ended up getting (what he somewhat thinks is) a complement, made his day feel a little bit more bearable.

“Well… it was nice meetin’ ya, sir. But if I don’t hustle I’ll really be late for sure.” He continued with his lie. He collected himself and begins to walk, “Hope those kids of yours show up soon.” He added.

The tortoise perked his head up, “Oh no if they know what’s good for them they will.” He continued. “If we ever meet again I owe you a drink.”

“Sounds good to me... I know a good joint too. If you ever go to _Mark’s Place_ , tell ‘em it’s on Frisk.” He said jokingly.

“ _Mark’s Place_ , eh? How generous of you.” The tortoise laughed.

And with that they go their separate ways.

 

* * *

Moments after the young man’s departure, a black ford automobile rolls up to the curb just behind the old tortoise. 

A tall, scaly blue woman with long red hair put up in a ponytail and bangs draped over her left eye and wearing a black suit emerges from the back seat of the vehicle. She towered over the old monster, “Sorry we’re late Donny Geeee- Your shell! Who did this to ya?!” The fish woman uttered, beads of sweat drop off her face.

“Easy Undyne…” the tortoise continued. “Placin’ the meetin’ spot across the street… kids today. Whaddya expect? Everyone’s in a hurry nowadays… Now quit yer gawkin’ or else I’M gonna be late!” He frowned.

“Uhhh yes sir.” Undyne said as she steps aside and holds the door out for the old tortoise.

The old monster waddles over and takes his seat in the back of the car and yells out to Undyne before she closed the door. “And get me the telephone numba of this _Mark’s Place_ , will ya?” he said as a smile creeps across his face and begins to chuckle.

Undyne seats herself in the passenger seat next to another monster behind the wheel that wore a hooded cloak. She then looks back, she could see the old timer laughing to himself more, he pulls out a slip of folded up paper that he had tucked away in his shirt pocket and unfolds it.

“Heh heh heh… I think I found the man who can help solve our problems.” He chuckled, looking at the paper which happens to be a photograph of the very man he encountered, looking a lot more worse for wear compared the their earlier incident.

Undyne who was watching the old man’s strange behavior looks back at the driver and shrugs. The car starts up and drives into the night.

 

* * *

 A tattered brick building with a stripped awning and a sign that shines _Mark’s Place_ , illuminates the street, seeming to be the only business open at the time. Frisk, only being a few feet huffing and puffing, as he draws closer. The street that the establishment is on was empty, no soul in sight except two figures sitting on the floor leaned against the building. An unimpressed look dawns Frisk face as he got closer, almost glaring at the two individuals.

Upon further inspection was a scruffy looking man wearing a light brown over coat, tattered shoes and black pants, with very short brown hair, mustache and 5’o clock shadow. Leaned against him was an orange floppy eared bunny monster wearing a disheveled long sleeved white button up shirt, patchy hole-ridden trousers and barefoot. Both reeked with the smell of booze and appears to be passed out at the moment. 

 **Jeeze… So this is where you guys were… Never where I needed yas.** Frisk thought with an annoyed look on his face as he steps over their legs to go and reach for the door. “Lazy bums…” he muttered as he opens it and heads inside.

He steps into a dimly lit room full of tables and chairs along with a thin layer of smoke hovering overhead that greeted unkindly, he reacted as accordingly to the sudden smell by coughing violently. He swatted away the smoke as he scans the room to see what the status of the room is.  Seeing that some of the tables had full seating others just holding a few couples or single parties already passed out and slouched on the tables. The sound of the closing door alerted a few of the patrons who glances over at Frisk’s direction. He eyes a few that he’s familiar with and heads towards a bar placed at the right side of the room. Unfortunately for Frisk, someone was already waiting for him and they don’t look at all impressed. It was a huge man in a white stained t-shirt and apron, his jet black hair combed in a slick-back style and complementing the look is his thick black mustache. The man is quite the gander, big forearms for lifting keg barrels and an intimidating aura that would even scare the mightiest of lions.

“Frizz, you’re late.” The man bellowed, his voice low and smooth.

“Sorry Mark-”

“Your shift starts at 10, do I need to start scheduling you even later than that?” He stated cutting Frisk off mid-sentence. “Since 9 wasn’t good enough for last week, I thought for sure you’ll make it at least by 10.”

“No, boss-”

“And look at you! You even ruined your uniform, I told you that you should of kept it here since you love grabbin’ unwanted attention to yourself.” He said cutting off Frisk again.

Frisk begins thinking that he just can’t get a break today and instead of trying to explain himself he decided to just let it be. “It’s fine… I got a spare.”

“Alright, well leave that here when you get off. Now hurry up n’ change… The missus gets all whiney and knaggy when I don’t get home on time.” He stated.

Frisk collected himself, pulled his bag that was somewhat slipping from his shoulder and shuffled towards the men’s bathroom. Just as he pushed open the door Mark had one more remark for Frisk, “If yer planning on bringing those two idiots in here ya better make sure they stay away from my front counter, got it?!” he declared, Frisk didn’t have anything to say and he shut the door behind him and locked it for extra measure.

Frisk placed his bag aside and eased his way to the sink to look at the damage that was done in the mirror. **Not as bad as I thought…** he thought to himself, then he rolled up his sleeve revealing numerous scars along his forearm to where the impact from the fall cause the most discomfort. Luckily, for him the shell didn’t tear into his arm as he thought when the tortoise landed on him, but it did leave an impressive red mark which Frisk will know that’ll end up pretty bruised for a good week or so, complemented with an inability to move his arm or at least bend it to the point where it won’t cause much pain. He sighed, grabbing his spare dress shirt, vest and an apron that he had stuffed in his bag and began changing.

Meanwhile, Mark already dressed in his casual wear holding the front door with his foot as he looked upon the two sleeping against his establishment with an irritated look on his face. Eventually, Frisk comes trotting out to see Mark off, “Okay, Mark I got things from here,” in Mark response he eyes Frisk and gestures his head in a “come over here” motion. Frisk hesitantly strolls over to Mark and steps outside where now the two of them are hovering over the monster and human couple. Mark grit his teeth in disgust and comments, “gruh... Freaks…” he continued. “Well, wake up wingus and dingus, I won’t be here to protect ya if they do anything stupid out here… honestly, how you even put up with them is beyond me,” he scorned.

Frisk could only let out a nervous laugh as he held onto the door, signaling Mark that he was alright to leave. “It’s okay Mark, they keep me company.”

Mark gives Frisk a stern look, then lets out a defeated sigh and makes a small wave of goodbye, he already had a long day and giving Frisk 2 cents of his time is just wasted energy on his part not until adding another remark, “Okay, just as long as they don’t burn the place down,” finally smiling.

Not surprised that his boss always leaving with some sort of last word being said, Frisk gave him a salute and smiles back, “Yeah, yeah… Night boss.”

The small but pleasant moment didn’t last long as the silence gets broken by the sound of Z’s being strummed up by the two drunkards who are still laying against the building.

“Hey! Harry! Joe!” Frisk yelled. “Wake up ya lazy bums!” he said as he kicked their feet, shocking them from their pleasant dreams.

The scruffy looking man awakens and gazes upwards and nudges his floppy eared companion. “Ae! Take a look at that, Frizzy’s here!”

The bunny comes to, “Hiya, Frizzy!” the bunny said as he wiggles his fingers teasingly.

“I keep tellin’ ya two ta stop callin’ me that, it’s Frisk! Not Frizzy!” He said, annoyed.

“Awww but com’on now, everyone calls ya Frizzy!” the man exclaimed.

Knowing that there was no sense in arguing with a drunk, Frisk turns irritated as he begins heading back inside. “… Get in ‘ere before I change my mind.”

The two friends giggled as they struggle to get up and fallow suit. Of course it didn’t take long for them to start up trouble.

Frisk could only just stare on in utter discontent seeing the two bumping bottoms trying to set themselves over one chair at the front counter where Frisk was stationed at. Holding onto a whiskey glass that he was going to wipe off with a dry dish rag, Frisk slams the glass on the table hard enough to get the couples attention but not hard enough to break the glass. It seemed to work, momentarily. “What are you guys doin’?” he said, irritated.

“Whaddya talkin’ about? Takin’ a seat where we normally sit,” the rough looking man replied. 

“Oh no, you’re not. Not here anyway,” Frisk continued. “Whatever you two did when Mark was here, really got him all balled up.”

“Ahhh applesauce! We’s been only playin’,” he snickered, as he waved his arm in disagreement.

“Well whatever you did, you both lost your counter sittin’ privileges,” Frisk said finally, throwing a thumb to the side to signal them to leave the area and sit elsewhere.

The old man, Joe, clinch his teeth and gets up and heads to one of the nearby booths as the bunny monster, Harry, follows closely behind placing his arm around Joe. “’ey at least he’s not givin’ us the boot. We’ll still get our drinks.” He said, nudging Joe.

Frisk cracks a tiny smile of content thinking that somethings never change. He’s been working at this bar for a pretty long time and has seen it all. Out of his other jobs that he could recall, _Mark’s_ was always his favorite, especially Monday nights. Despite what people say about Monday, it may mark the start of the work week but for Frisk, it’s always slow and easy during the graveyard shift. _Mark’s_ constantly has more opportunities for Frisk, yeah of course what else would be the reason for people to go to bars besides getting drunk?  Well, for the talks of course. It’s not as easy getting by with honest jobs and Frisk knows that, he knows that in order for him to survive he would have to get his hands dirty every now and then and _Mark’s_ is the best place to find those kinds of jobs. Usually, bartenders are nothing more than giggle water servers, people who work to serve the humble working man, and of course what humble working man doesn’t go off and rant about a love affair, a cheating wife or drug smuggling under the influence of the brew? There’s nothing that a barkeep’s ears couldn’t hear and Frisk uses that to his advantage, it’s all in the trade. Although, Frisk has never met another bartender that goes to the lengths that he’s gone, however he doesn’t plan on making a name for himself anytime soon.

No, cheating spouses or not, his ears listens on vital information for those not so fortunate. A keen information broker who struggles to help his community, Frisk has taken tons of jobs. Some he successfully finished and some still ongoing, his most recent task he’d accomplished was gathering info for the police on repots of sexual assaults that have been happening in Southern Division. The case has still haven’t been brought to attention yet, but he gets paid for what he is tasked. Other jobs are pretty minor and a small tradeoff for food for his services is enough to suffice.

Leaving his train of thought, Frisk looks up and takes a look at the crowd and notices a few new faces, some his regulars and some new. Not surprised to see as soon as he looked at the few of new faces they quickly turned away. **I guess Mark already took care of them.** He thought, as he grabbed hold of his aching arm. **Tonight’s gonna be a long night... Maybe I’ll telephone for a day off, tomorrow…**

 

* * *

 Summer 1928- Tuesday. The night came and went, to much of Frisk’s surprise to see Mark relive him of the shift ends up coming in to call Frisk into his back office. Initially thinking that this might be the perfect opportunity to ask his boss for the day off. Telling Mark of the previous night’s incident, his boss not surprised at all to hear what happened just told Frisk to sit down. Mark seated in a tiny chair as Frisk was placed in a wheeled chair on the opposite side of Mark’s desk.

“You’re working, tonight,” Mark spoke.

“What?!” Frisk yelled, slamming his hands on the desk. Feeling that his request to go home and rest for his injury had no regard.

“Yep, at my brother’s joint. You remember Charger, right?” He said, ignoring Frisk’s outburst.

“But but but…”

“Yeah I know, you just told me you got pretty banged up last night, but he’s shorthanded right now,” he continued. “’Sides I don’t know anyone better suited to this job than you… It’s his co-spec joint over in Western Division and you know Marsh n’ Ter won’t do it.”

“True…” Frisk sighed, as he slouches back into his seat.

Frisk recalls the guilty thought to letting Mark down last night and guesses what better way to make it up to him than now… he guessed. Although, this isn’t his first time helping Mark’s brother, Frisk has worked with Charger before and is quite fond of the joint, _Charger’s Pub_. The place as Mark said was indeed a co-spec establishment, co- spec being short for Co-Species. Not saying that Mark is restricted to only serving human customers, because that’s not really the case since Harry is a regular there, granted he drinks human beer. Co-spec businesses just means that they cater to both human AND monster customers and _Charger’s Pub_ is one the very few business that is really good at that; serving monster and human food as well as monster and human entertainment. The only reason for _Charger’s_ being so special is it’s location, Western Division, a balanced ratio of monster to human that populates the area.

“Before I came in, I already telephoned Charger of your situation,” Mark stated.

“But-“

“Don’t worry I spared him on the details, he reassured me that you won’t be needin’ to do any heavy liftin’,” he continues. “He just wants you to serve people, be all friendly and don’t be startin’ any trouble with those not-so-polite monster hatin’ folk.”

Frisk still slouched in his chair, a bit upset asks, “Not meanin’ to be rude or nuthin’ but why don’t you go boss?”

“I’ll be busy runnin’ this shop, of course.” He said, almost immediately.

“You could just leave the place to Marshal or Terry?”

“Well both Marsh AND Ter aren’t scheduled for today.” Mark replied.

“You can just schedule them in for today.” Frisk said with a bit of stain in his voice.

“I don’t want to schedule them in today.” He said, emphasizing the same tone as Frisk’s.

“Pfft… Look whose commin’ up with excuses.” Frisk said, putting his feet up on Mark’s desk and crossing his arms with an angry look on his face. Getting suspicious of Mark refusing to go in Frisk’s stead.

“Damn straight! I ain’t goin’ there! Don’t get me wrong Frizz, I ain’t no racist or nuthin’, but Westside is all monster territory n’ it makes me uncomfortable not seein’ the usual rummys that I see ‘ere. An I won’t hear he end of it from da missus if I do end up goin’.” He said, finally swatting Frisk feet off of his desk.

 **Ahhh so this is what it’s about…** Frisk thought. Puffing out his cheeks as he rocks back and forth in the chair, “Fine…” he said, unenthusiastically.

“Attaboy! Now go home and get some shut eye. Charger’s gonna be expectin’ ya early today at 7:30.”

 

* * *

Tuesday 7:20pm, monsters crowd a busy street, at a building in similar architecture as _Mark’s Place_ , the sign instead illuminated reading _Charger’s Pub_. Frisk stands across the street as an onlooker to the building. Safe to say that he is finally on time for once, but the dark circles he had under his eyes last night seem to have gotten darker in hue. Before his arrival, Frisk thought he had plenty of time to rest. Unfortunately, his indecisiveness came to be his down fall as upon leaving work earlier in the day he had a hard time debating whether to go to the doctor about his messed up arm, sleeping at home or sleeping at the bar. He decided the latter…

Frisk poises himself as a critic would, his hand under his chin and his other arm across his chest propping up the arm that’s holding his head. He takes a nice good look at the establishment and takes time to analyze the building, he has to admit it has been well managed compared to Mark’s, but as if he’ll ever admit that aloud. 

**I do have to say, it doesn’t look at all different from the last time I helped Charger out. Can’t say I know what the inside must look like now, though. Judging how busy it is out here mustn’t mean it’s not to worse for wear in there. Well, I guess I’ll find out once I get inside and see it in its element.**

He crosses the street with ease and is welcomed by long silent stares, mostly of monster’s he’d never seen before. Mark comes to mind, **I owe Mark an apology when I get back.** He thought. Frisk didn’t think that this was what Mark was worried about initially.

Frisk, finally reaches the entrance, anticipating the smell of smoke this time grabs a handkerchief out of his pocket and covers his nose and mouth with it along with another unexpected welcome when stepping through the front entrance. A look of shock comes to his face thinking, this is not what it used to look like. The room glowed a tinge of red and a small stairway to the left of him leading to a loft that was enclosed with a railing and a big monster blocking the access point. As for the rest of the pub, the ceiling was high and 3 rows of spotlights over hanging the dining area. He then looks immediately above him and notices a sign, his looks of astonishment turns to disappointment when he looked at it, **Oh… That’s still here…** he thought, as the sign overhead reads _COLORED/ MONSTERS_ and notably the monsters crudely hand written with an arrow pointing left and a sign hanging next to it reads _WHITES_ with an arrow pointing to the right. Other than that, it almost has a similar layout as its sister… er brother location? The bar is to the right, tables and chairs set up in the same layout only differences showing is that there’s a stage towards the back and compared to _Mark’s_ that didn’t serve food, _Charger’s_ did, so a cook top and a huge refrigerator sitting next to it was placed behind the bar.

Frisk then notices despite not being on stage he was grabbing a lot of attention to himself just standing there gaping at the scenery. Both monsters and humans alike, starting at his general direction. Feeling a bit unsteady, turns around and heads towards the front door, **Maybe I should of came in through the back door-**

Before he could finish the thought, a massive hand reaches towards Frisk and catches him in a headlock, “AHHH My hired hand! Still puny as the first time I met ya.” The voice laughed.

Frisk frantically trying to grip the arm from squeezing any harder, the arm immediately releases him. Frisk falling back and turns to face his assaulter while trying to gasp for air.

“Ahh sorry lad, I sometimes forget myself.” The man said, as he placed both his hands at the sides of his waist with a puffed out chest. The man stood as tall as Mark and has a similar build only that this gentle giant has blond hair instead of black and sporting a goatee unlike Mark’s mustache, it’s no doubt to Frisk that this is his boss for tonight, Charger.

“….. S’okay boss…” Frisk coughed, as he’s hunched over trying to catch his breath.

“It’s been a while since you’ve worked here, glad you were able to make it in on time,” he continued as he pulls out a set of clothes that was tucked in his apron. “Now, get out of my brother’s dirty rags and put this on. We have a special event going on tonight and we need to make ourselves look presentable.”

Frisk nods, takes the clothes and comes out moments later finishing up his ensemble by tying up his apron around his waist. Some ladies that were on stage that just finished up with the opening act are caught glancing at Frisk, and couldn’t help but squeal in excitement.

“Hey! That’s Jem’s boyfriend. I met him once during one of Jem’s ladies nights.” One girl whispering to another.

“Ooooh? Well, he’s not rich but he sure is cute.” Another added.

Two girls stepped down from the stage and approaches Frisk, both responding, “Hiya Frisky,” they said, teasingly.

“Hello ladies,” he said, unamused.

“Heya Frisky, remember me? I was at Jem’s sleepover last week!”

“Yep, I remember.”

“So Frisky? Does Jem know you’re working here, tonight?” Another girl asked.

“Oh… No, I guess she doesn’t.” Frisk continued, “Say if you ladies wouldn’t mind letting her know that I’m here I’d greatly appreciate it.”

“Sure, anything for you.” She winked.

Frisk feeling a bit nervous then hears Charger from the bar. “Yo! Frizz, order up!”

He lets out a sigh of relief and excuses himself as he starts his shift.

It was as easy as Mark said it’d be, serving tables, taking orders. Frisk automatically thinks that this night is going to be a breeze.

Eventually, after most of the seats are filled, a gentleman approaches the mic on stage, “Ladies and Gentlemen, _Charger’s Pub_ is proud to present their first ever monster singer. All the way from the deep depths of Waterfall, it’s Ms. Shyren.” He announced as he takes a step back and a monster hovers forward.

Frisk stationed at the bar next to the stage entrance glances up at the monster. He couldn’t help but look at her in amazement. Shyren appeared to look like a monster with a fish shaped head with her hair draped over half of her face and her body contoured like a mermaid, poised and elegant. She began to sing with no accompaniment, the song she sang was nothing he never heard before and it was pleasant. Then, a few sharp notes slipped out and he flinches at the sound, **A bit off key, but she’s not half bad** , he thought.

“Wow, a monster that can sing?” said a voice in the distance.

“Woah, check out whose here t’night.” Said another.

Then Frisk starts hearing a familiar voice amongst the crowd.

“They must have been the ones who invited Shyren.” Said a rough voice.

 **Those voices…** Frisk though, dreading the thought of looking back. He snaps his head towards the direction of the familiar sounds and to his surprise and dismay were his customers from _Mark’s Place_ , Harry and Joe. **I** **can’t believe this… are they stalking me?!**

They had no problems finding a seat next to the loft where the big monster was standing, the take a seat ready to enjoy the show.

 **Those assholes better behave themselves…** he thought, as the sounds of booing and hissing cut through his line of thought.

Frisk sets his attention back to the stage and can hear humans demanding Shyren to get off along with them pelting her with food.

With no time to think, Frisk slams his serving tray and apron on the counter and runs up through the backstage stairway that leads behind the curtain of center stage, Charger calling out for him to return.

Upon reaching the top of the steps, the back stage was dim and a small line of light cuts through the middle of the room. Frisk is greeted by a girl frantic and confused about all the commotion. He immediately recognizes her silhouette as the woman from his apartment, the tiny waist blond girl. This time she is wearing what appears to be a feathered scarf and red dress and long sleeved white gloves, her stature just a couple feet taller than Frisk. “Frisky?” the woman speaks. “I thought the gals were pullin’ my leg when they told me you were here. What in the world is goin’ on out there?” she said with a concerned look on her face.

“Oh good, Jem! Thank god you’re here. Listen, ya gotta help me out here. There’s this monster out there and she’ll get eaten alive if we don’t do somethin’!” he declared.

“Wait? That’s a monster? I thought that was someone eatin’ a tin can! Poor doll…” she continued. “There’s a piana in the back, just follow my lead.” She pointed as she goes in the opposite direction towards the stage.

Frisk nods and takes no time getting to the back.

“Oh and Frisky?” Jem calls, Frick turns around. “Ya owe me one for this.” She winks.

“Of course…” Frisk sulking at the thought of owing her a favor and marches to the piano as Jem disappears into the light.

On stage, Shyren continues to be booed until a soft touch placed on (what would anatomically be) her shoulder. Shyren jumps startled as Jem gazes at the monster and places her finger over her mouth, “It’s okay, us show sistas need to stick together.” She said, reassuringly.

The curtain draws back, revealing Frisk sitting at a grand piano, he didn’t expect to be seen on stage and he looks back with a nervous glare being aimed directly at Jem, who responds with sticking her tongue out in a teasing gesture. He turns his attention back to the piano and waits for his cue. Jem readies her voice and as the first note came out Frisk couldn’t help but feel irked about her song choice. **Seriously… _Any Woman’s_ _Blues_ , really Jem?** He scoffs at the choice and plays a more upbeat tune of _Be Sweet to Me_.

Jem turns back and gets the welcoming look of Frisk sticking his tongue out at her and with no other choice but to turn around and sing the song provided with Shyren next to her. She nudges Shyren, trying to encourage her to sing along, at first Shyren sings a few notes. It wasn’t extravagant and Jem continues to playfully coax her to sing more, eventually something awaken inside of Shyren and broke out of her reserved state and sang much more confidently. Frisk looking back feeling at ease to hear and see the upswing in Shyren’s mood, in response Frisk starts playing with more gusto missing keys, but enjoying himself.

After the song was played, the crowd offers a polite applause as their mood looks a lot better compared to when the performance started off. Shyren couldn’t believe the support she received and presses against Jem, as her body language seem to emphasize a gesture that of a hug. A bit stunned by the action, it didn’t take long for Jem to figure out and returns the hug. Frisk gets up from the piano and takes a look at the two standing on center stage, then he sees a hand being held out by Jem and her head nodding in a “come here” motion. Not wanting to make things awkward on their part, walks up to center stage with the idea that they were all going to take a bow.

That’s not what Jem thought though as she extends her had reaching around his back and pulling him close to her. Frisk confounded and hears a low rumble coming from the crowd, then he sees Jem take the microphone. “Thank you all so much for coming here and look who came all this way to see little ol’ me.” She winked.

Frisk forces out a smile as he grit his teeth and leaned his head towards Jem’s. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he whispered.

She continues to speak, “See I didn’t make him up guys, but don’t worry I still love you.” She said, as she ignores his question.

“You’re gonna get me killed…” he said, through his forced smile.

She bumps him with her hip and smiles, “You owe me and this is how you’re gonna do it,” she continued, talking through her teeth. “Some of these guys won’t get off my back and they’re getting tired of the usual and wanna take it to a more personal level. If you play this card right you can have the apartment all to yourself Thursday, okay?”

Frisk looks down, his face goes blank, Jem sees his head slumps down a bit and bends down to inspect. Without warning, he places both hands on the sides of her face and pulls her into his. After a long silent moment, he releases her face and takes point to walk off stage.

Finally meeting up with Charger, who awards Frisk with a bug slap on the back and his fellow servers and show girls who were watching from the side praise him for his performance. Frisk nervously laughs it off and knew that it was going to be a long night for sure. Although, showing off your boyfriend normally works to deter any undesirable suitors, but sometimes that doesn’t always work for the lethal thugs that might have their eyes on Jem. Along with that stunt she pulled, might end up with him having crosshairs on the back of his head in the long run. Which is why he left her alone on the stage, when he turned back to look at her, her face was priceless. A small sacrifice on his part but he counted it as a victory, **anything to get the whole apartment for myself** he thought as he returned her glare with a smug grin. After that, the night and the outcome that will ensue is totally up in the air for anyone.

After the monster and human duet, the night continues on with show after show: jazz bands blaring, skimpily dressed gals a dancing, and even a monster comedian with inappropriate snow puns. To the humans, the entertainment flopped to their expectations, as for the monsters on the contrary, monsters yielded a livelier outcome. Frisk noticed a sizable difference between humans and monsters. Even though most of the entertainment was mixed in performers with some of the entertainment being produced by mostly humans, the monsters didn’t seem to care about who was entertaining them. In addition, on a brighter note even though the puns seemed disjointed, the monsters were kind enough to lend out a chuckle or two for the amateur artist. **If only humans were more like monsters** , Frisk shrugged and continued with his serving duties.

 

* * *

Another show ends, Charger calls out to Frisk, who was sweeping the floors, to signal him for the last show. No more breaks after this one since by the time the final spectacle is over it marks the grave yard shift and all the female employees quitin’ time. Coincidentally, most of the female entertainers are already dressed and ready to leave and are seated at the bar waiting to go, it appears that Jem is going to be the closer for the entertainment tonight.

Completing the sweeping task, Frisk waves Charger down letting him know he’s ready to take his break. Before heading to his break, a party of humans siting near back of the establishment. Not wanting to appear as rude, Frisk takes it upon himself to serve one more customer. One man calls out for another round for his companions, without hesitation Frisk returns with just that. Then, he feels his leg slip up and falls over dropping the serving tray. On the ground, he looks back to see his foot got caught by a patron seated nearby the party, smirking. **Of course…** Frisk thought. Frisk then hears droplets tapping on the floor in front of him and turns his attention back to see two pairs of legs immediately before him. Two men who were accompanying the group, hovering over Frisk dripping with the booze that he dropped, they both grabbed an arm and yanks him up.

“’Ere, let us help you.” One said, gritting his teeth.

“Oh jeez I’m so sorry, sir,” he said, while thinking **I have an idea where this is goin’…**

“Heheh… yeah sorry,” the other man continued, as his face shifted from a smug grin to enraged. “You’re gonna be!” he yelled, throwing a fist.

With his movements restricted, all Frisk could do is jerk his head back as the punch fly pass his face and hitting his cohort. **Jesus!** He thought as he could see the other man who was the receiver of the punch bleeding from his nose.

In response, both men released Frisk, as he attempts to escape another companion blocks Frisk’s path. Frisk takes a detour stepping back as the number of thugs continues to grow from 3 to 6, thinking initially how he could handle the situation to now being completely screwed beyond belief. His fellow coworkers in the distance weaving though the seats trying to lend their assistance, then as Frisk continues retreating, his coworkers stop in their tracks, their faces slowly turning pale. Confused, Frisk couldn’t retreat anymore as his back presses hard against something or someone that was behind him. The men before him drew on irked faces as their gaze was lifted much higher to Frisk’s stature. Suddenly, drops of liquid pat on his shoulder, he looks at the wet spot forming on his sleeve and then looked up. His face too grows pale, standing behind him was a massive figure, wearing a black suit, a dark blue stripped vest and topped with a black fedora which appeared to be drenched. The face of this man was angled low until it veered up until his head was held high and his eyes meeting Frisk’s.

The man was not a man but a skeleton so to speak, his eyes were white lights set inside the sockets, his teeth, though looked like only one row of teeth fitted in the monster’s mouth until it split open in serrated fashion when he finally spoke.

“Who did this?” The skeleton said as he removed his hat and pointed at himself, his shoulders appeared wet and smelled of booze.

Feeling nervous, but knew that it was an accident opens his mouth. Just as he was going to project his voice a warm flow of liquid runs down his head and a different voice speaks, “No worries, tough guy we got it handled from ‘ere.” Said a voice behind Frisk, pouring a glass of whisky over Frisk’s head.

Realizing that one of the men managed to approach him without notice, Frisk jerked away from the man, but not without receiving a kick to the gut. Frisk tries catching the assaulter’s foot but fails to react in time and gets propelled back into a table beside the large monster.

What seemed like forever the ruckus finally gets Charger’s attention and stomps over with Frisk’s fellow coworkers who were stunned frozen at the time.

Frisk now hacking in pain, puts up his arms as the thug who kicked approaches. Luckily for Frisk, the man was about to throw at him until a blue glow encased the man’s arm. Confused the man expresses his bewilderment and before anyone saw it coming, the man gets flung back towards his friends. The men, sliding towards Charger, as Charger and his men take the men outside.

The showgirls sitting at the bar arrive to Frisk’s aid, not being the most of help as all they were doing was patting him dry with handkerchiefs. Charger changes course leaving the fate of the party to his men as he makes his way back to Frisk and picks him back up on his feet with ease. Frisk, eventually waves the girls away, “Thanks ladies, but I can get cleaned up in the men’s room. You should offer your help to that guy.” He said as he glances over to the giant skeleton man and nods to his direction. The girls immediate reaction was shaking their heads in disapproval, as to Frisk he responds by pulling one of the girls close to whisper, “He didn’t have anything to do with my beatings…” he winced. “He’s a customer after all.” He said finally, making his leave.

Frisk staggers over to Charger who is crossed armed and looking at the mess that was made, “Lady Luck sure has it in for you.” Charger sighed.

“I would like to think she turns a blind eye when I need her.” Frisk responded, looking at the same mess.

Charger turn his gaze down towards him and gives him a sympathetic frown. “Ya gonna be okay, Frizz?” he continued. “After this show it’ll be smooth sailing from here on out… I’ll be sure of it.” He said, giving a Frisk a thumbs up.

“Do I still get a break?” he asked, as he begins rustling through his pocket.

“One hour. Don’t tell Mark.” He said, keeping his arms crossed.

Frisk nods and pulls out a brass tube from his pocket, placed it on his mouth and inhales as he pushes a button on top. “Got any spare uniforms?” he said, with his free hand pulling the collar of his soaked dress shirt.

“Ha! I’ll give you a break, but don’t push your luck. I know how you are with uniforms, musta gotten that from yer day job.” He snorted.

“Heh… thought I’d at least try.” He said as he shuffles away. He passes the bar and towards the backstage entrance and through a doorway adjacent to the stairs that lead up, towards the public restroom. Which to his luck a sign hangs on the door saying _OUT OF ORDER_ , it didn’t stop him from trying to pry the door open which resulted to no avail. He lets out an aggravated groan as he backtracks towards the staircase and glances upwards and thinks about the women’s dressing room.

He advances up the stairway, by the time he reached the top step he hears commotion ahead of him. A few show girls approaching him, they stop in their tracks to the smell of alcohol and glances up at Frisk.

“Ohmigosh! Frisky?! What happened to you?” one girl gasped, as others inspect much closer.

“Nothin’… nothin’ that we couldn’t handle,” he waves his hand at the thought. “You ladies wouldn’t mind if I commandeer your restroom?”

“Pssh, applesauce! We won’t be needin’ it, go right ahead.” Another girl insisted.

“Thanks,” he looks up too see amongst the women. “Where’s Jem?” he asks.

“Just missed her,” she said thumbing over towards curtains leading towards center stage.

“Ahhh.”

“We’ll let her know you’ll be waiting for her in the dressin’ room,” she declared, as the girls make their leave until all was left was Frisk.

Frisk reaches the girl’s dressing room door and carefully inspects the room, making sure the coast is clear before entering. His eyes wonders around as he advances through the room towards the other side where the bathroom is placed. The room as bright and the different shades of pink covered almost every inch of the place. As he arrives to the bathroom door, he enters and tries to lock the door which ended up useless. Irritated, leaves the door closed and heads towards the mirror. He pulls on the collar of his dress shirt and inspects himself, **soaked through…** he thought, disappointedly.

He unbuttons his shirt revealing his chest wrapped in bandages that were stained by the booze. He then unwraps the bindings on his chest, exposing breasts.

Yes, Frisk is actually a woman, a woman pretending to be a man.

SHE takes a glance at the mirror where in response she turns away at the sight of her disfigured breasts that have been constricted for a long time. As for the binds that she uses she places the wrappings in the sink and runs warm water and wringing them out every few intervals, trying to get the stain and some of the smell out of them. Once she was satisfied enough to think that the smell won’t seep through her uniform she hangs them on a stall door and moves onto her dress shirt.

For as long as Frisk could remember, it’s been a while since she had to disrobe so much at any other place besides her apartment. Still not wanting to chance anything, she snaps her shirt straight and makes do with what she could in removing the stains at least, and slips on the dress shirt.

At the same time, the bathroom door bursts wide open as a massive figure in dark entering the room with their hand on the door making out the phrase, “’Scuse me, si-,” the figure, upon closer inspection being the tall skeleton from earlier, is standing in the doorway still.

Frisk looking like a deer caught in headlights, drawing blanks on what to say or do with her mouth opened just slightly. She stares intensely what seems to her as long as an hour, which only lasted for a moment, for the skeleton took a good stare at her chest before turning to leave while closing the door.

Frantic, Frisk throws out her arm to grab ahold of his and yanks him back in the women’s bathroom. Using all her might to the point where he’s completely inside and with both hands she slams the bathroom door closed and stays there.

After that, everything starts to flood in.

**He saw… He knows… It’s over for me. I’m dead once he steps out of this bathroom. There’s no doubt in my mind that he wouldn’t go and brag to his friends about it. Then, it won’t be long until the police start hearin’ rumors. If things runs it’s course, I’m positive I’ll be dead by next week. Fuck! I have to think of something! LUCK BE A FUCKING FAT ASSED MONSTER TONIGHT!**

A voice breaks her train of thought.

“Excuse me, -“

“Don’t tell!” she pleaded. “Please whatever you do, PLEASE DON’T TELL!”


	2. My Luck and the Grim Reaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her luck running out  
> His luck getting better
> 
> Her face to face with death  
> Him loving/hating every moment of it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'll be a while for any smut to appear, but it will show itself eventually...

**Luck be a literal lady tonight.** The skeleton monster thought amusingly.

Before stepping into the lady’s room, before getting drenched with alcohol, before ever even coming to this wacked job city, he was prepared for a lot of things. Though, nothing could ever prepare him for this, stuck in the women’s restroom of a ladies dressing room, with what he thought was to engage in a man to man conversation in recruiting more humans to his Don’s cause. Instead of a man, ends up being a woman which was what initiated his first thought.

The skeleton known as Sans, thought at first, that he’d had to use everything in his disposal to try and sweet talk some human he never met before. Convince a human to join a monster mafia? What a riot, he thought. Unfortunately, orders are orders, he hadn’t been in this city long, a week at most. He recalled to the last time he was in this city, which was oh so long ago, hardly got to spend enough time to get to know the place before heading back to Mt. Ebott. Though, he was grateful for the change of scenery and to the turn of events that unfolded before him. He was informed of the legendary mercy lending human that stuck up for his kind when everyone was either powerless to do so or was a fucking bigot. Although the idea of a human who was accepting of monsters and even better standing up for them is exciting to hear, the skeleton couldn’t help but find it a bit difficult to think that the same human would be eager enough to help a monster mafia.

However, now, now his plan changed for the better. Sans thinks back when he first stepped foot in this city a week ago. The city called Mercy, he recalled when he came to town via train. Before, he was placed in the countryside at the base of Mt. Ebott, away from his brother and his friends, ordered to stay put until he receives contact. 4 years, 4 fucking years to be away from his brother who was called in instead of him to lend another mafia aid. After so many years of waiting, he finally gets his call and finally gets to reunite with his brother.

Although, before he could reunite with his brother, he receives orders that his services would be needed to helping out Don Gerson of Waterfall, a close friend and trusted ally to his boss. It irked him only a little bit to be pulled away from his brother again, but this at least here there wasn’t a whole county smacked dabbed between them. A week of hardly enough time for his own accord was tasked to report to Undyne, Donny G’s right hand monster, or tasked in negotiating deals with the small business owned human shops to be a bit more monster friendly. As for the humans who didn’t take the offer kindly, they were relocated to a better suited area where other humans who thought alike could keep them. Granted, with the jobs at hand, 5 years and most of the mafia members are lost on the city and the divisions that the place entailed. The Dons sent out scouts and informants, but even their reach was limited. Either stopped by barriers or police personnel placing invisible boundaries and boarder lines keeping monsters from expanding to less cramped locations.

That’s when Don Gerson sprang the idea to recruit human help. It was a little too soon since there’s been so little trust that haven’t been established with the humans, but he needed coverage and needed to be inconspicuous about it. Not long after, the “Monster Lover” name starts springing up. Apparently, a name only humans dubbed and not monsters which was why word didn’t start circulating in the monster community until 3 weeks prior. At the time as to what monsters thought what a monster lover was, was a human who had sex with monsters not someone who sympathized with them. With that information it took longer to find someone that they could recruit, until one of the informants came back to clarify that misconception of the “Monster Lover”. It would have been done sooner but to the informants excuse was that he didn’t brought it up because no one asked him to. Sans could recall how livid Donny G was when the informant told him during their last meeting. After that, the orders was made clear to make contact with the “Monster Lover” named Frisk.

However, that proved to be quite difficult, surprisingly this human had a predictable work schedule; working every Monday, Tuesday and Thursday night in one job, and a day job that he goes to Monday through Friday. Though, where the human goes after his day job and before his night jobs have always been a mystery. Even Sans, took it upon himself to ask the business owners that he meets with if they have any information about the human, what yielded was strange looks or just straight out denying that they even knew him at all. Most tipsters even tried to follow humans that matched the “Monster Lover” description, but immediately losses him in the human only districts. Trying to pinpoint where he lives wasn’t easy as well, according to his neighbors, fella is hardly ever home. Unusually, when anyone from the monster mob tried getting information from his monster neighbors they wouldn’t give an inch. Nothing at all, Sans was quite impressed and thought, this human must of done more than just sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, because they act like the human was like one of their own. He couldn’t blame them if they weren’t trusting, it was frustrating though, since the mob is striving for the same thing that this human wants for their kind.

Then it happened, 3 weeks ago, a tipster finally got a lead on Frisk’s whereabouts. Unable to pinpoint where his apartment was, just took whatever valuable information that they could get. They spot him heading to work, it took them a while to find him since he looks like every other Joe and keeps his eyes low. Unbeknownst to the spies, the human spotted 3 of his kind harassing their fellow monster. Since they’ve been so busy with their orders that they forgot to look after their own. They were shocked to see one lowly human take on three that towered him in stature. And they’ve talked to the bunny monster and her brother before and like all the other monsters, never even heard of the “Monster Lover” at all. What ended the fight, wasn’t the lone human’s victory but a nearby police vehicle rolling up in the street, it scared the thugs away, but left their target mortally wounded. The spies were able to snap a photograph of him before anyone noticed.

When intel came back, Donny G lost it by saying, “Why didn’t you morons check to see if he was ok after the pigs left?!”

They replied only assuming that the cops were going to stop when the bunny monster flagged them down, but didn’t think they would ignore her efforts in trying to save one of their own humans. All of the monsters must have thought they ignored her cause it had to do with a monster that was assaulted and not a human.

After sending the spies back out to go and assist Frisk, it must have been the longest 20 minutes of Gerson’s life, some monsters declared that the old man almost jumped out of his shell once he finally got word that the human made it to work okay, barely breathing, but okay. Soon after Gerson, decided to go look out for the boy himself, **no better way to do a job right than do it yourself, I guess** , Sans thought.

Unfortunately, Gerson didn’t make much progress in timing his encounters with the human, everyone offered to help, but he was reluctant to say “no”. One week, he tried to wait for Frisk at the entrance to his apartment building, but was too slow and missed his chance by a few feet, as the boy darted off to work than going at his casual pace. Then the next week, he tried getting to Frisk’s day job early and didn’t realize it was a human holiday that Monday and Frisk didn’t go anywhere near work that day. Gerson was a patient monster, but even somethings get a little too old for him. He gets a call from Papyrus that Snowdin’s Don was ready to meet with him the next Monday, and to his disbelief he never thought that he’d would actually whiteness this human’s altruism himself, for a monster he never met. In all honesty, Gerson couldn’t help but get a bad taste in his mouth on how their encounter ended. The boy saved his life and as a reward for saving the don’s life all he got in return was a broken arm, Gerson thought. He could almost feel the pain in his own arm just trying to imagine it being snapped in a vice grip, but Frisk left taking it on in stride and to top it all off, Gerson finally got the info that he needed. _Mark’s Place_ , of all places, it was the last place they’d thought they’d ever go. The place was in shambles and it wasn’t very popular, no food, no entertainment and the people there all act like they’re on their last wire.

Compared to _Charger’s Pub_ , Gerson could proudly say that he is a regular patron there. Of all places though, he thought someone of Frisk’s selflessness would work at a more high end and more dignified place. Although, tonight he finally got to see what Frisk goes through in person.

Even though Frisk didn’t see them, both Sans, Gerson AND Undyne were there tonight, hanging at the VIM (Very Important Monster) lounge. Initially, this was a planned meeting on Sans behalf, haven’t gotten to take the time to enjoy what the city had to offer and to catch up with old friends. Gerson was the one who asked Charger the night before to recruit Frisk and at the same time get Shyren out in the limelight.

It defiantly got the monster group’s attention seeing Frisk come to the rescue when things fell through when Shyren’s debut didn’t get the result she expected. Both Sans and Undyne were very much impressed, it was both their first time seeing Frisk, it reassured them that they finally found who they’re looking for. At least they don’t have to go around finding the guy based on description alone anymore. They didn’t even know about Frisk’s girlfriend, seeing that kiss up on stage embarrassed Undyne and as for Gerson, he gave the boy praise and even happy to see that the kid wasn’t alone in this fucked up city.

Gerson did plan to invite the boy eventually, but when that chance arose the monsters didn’t expect to see the wickedness that lingered in the humans tonight. Furthermore, even better, the kid getting tripped and splashing Sans with that disgusting human giggle water. At first, Gerson showed his concern for his old friend, but everything was bygones after that kick Frisk received. Going into Don Mode, Gerson just instinctively ordered Sans to go and check on the human. Which to Sans response he didn’t refuse, he felt a tiny bit guilty using his magic earlier, thought to maybe spare the poor guy and instead used it against a human in the Don’s favorite joint. Though, it seems that it was just the appropriate amount of force not to receive a scolding.

He took his time trying to think what to say, he strolled over to the men’s room and no dice. When he headed back, he heard a commotion from upstairs, keeping his distance to probably hear more information that intel haven’t learned yet only to receive nothing interesting. At least, we can have a private conversation, he thought as he teleported passed the girls and spies the young man going into the dressing room. Even though, it appeared that the kid had a soft spot for monsters, Sans didn’t have such high expectations. He’s seen it all around town, even monsters find Sans a bit creepy. Going from business to business and getting the same reaction, a human stumbling to their ass as if they saw their end, their Grim Reaper.

He enters the dressing room to find it empty, he spots the last minute motion of the bathroom door closing. He took his time to stroll on over to the bathroom, reflectively trying to put himself in Frisk shoes. **Takes a lot of guts to put yourself out there…** he thought. Sans didn’t really take anything to heart when Gerson told him about Frisk’s rep sheet. Almost found it hard to believe that a human would go to such lengths, already knowing that his kindness would be overlooked and still strived to lend a hand.

Once Sans opened the door, he thought he’d take it nice and slow with the kid, try not to scare him. Thinking of maybe hooking him up with something that might make the mafia sound more compassionate. Even though, in the back of his mind he knows that Gerson is just going to straight out use him and so was he.

He took one step and as an immediate reaction, caught the kid’s attention. Sans took the time to study the poor soul from top to bottom.

**Jeez, this kid’s seen better days… I hope.** He thought, glancing at his face. **Sullen eyes… tired shoulders…** he looks lower. **And small… oh My GOD THOSE ARE BOOBS!** Finally realizing he turns away closing the door with his left hand covering his face, covering his flustered face, **Oh my god he’s a-**

Before he could finish that thought, he felt a tiny hand on the crook of his arm and his body being hauled back in. He finds himself a few feet away from the door, standing behind the small figure in the bathroom. With his hand still on his face as he could see the tiny body in front of him, her back facing him as she has both hands outstretched against the now closed door.

Obviously, there wasn’t anyone else in the room who could of dragged him back in, he was perplexed to come to the conclusion that this tiny human woman was the culprit.

He almost doubted himself to believe it, he looked her over almost for certain that what pulled him was the strength of that of a man. **She pulled me in…? She’s strong for someone so tiny…** then he remembered that he is short as well, well compared to the monsters of his hometown at least. Though it made him feel a bit discouraged for being small, but he was nothing to sneeze at, as well as this girl apparently. Even though her exposure was only momentarily, before she dragged him in, he didn’t think much of her, but now he was quite impressed. Although, impressions aside he was caught off-guard, his mind flashes to her exposed breasts and back to this moment, **why aren’t you wearing a bra?!** Then, he catches a glimpse of some sort of cloth hanging from the stall door next to him. **That answers that.**

Not like he’s never been with a woman he added to the thought, though most of the women he’d been with were of monster persuasion. Still, no difference between monster women and human women, at least that’s what he thought.

He collects himself, his flushed cheeks retreated leaving just a small blemish on the corner of his cheekbone. He thought of a light hearted comment on the situation to ease his nerve, because of course he is a gentleman, at least that’s what he thinks anyway. **Luck be a literal lady tonight.**

He then attempts to break the awkward silence, “Excuse me, -“

“Don’t tell! Please whatever you do, PLEASE DON’T TELL!” She pleaded.

 

* * *

And now here they are, Frisk thinking that she slipped up cause she was getting to comfortable, which wasn’t the case. Though, she never thought she’d ever be caught like this, at the same time she never thought that this rouse was going to last as long as it did. She was going to be found out eventually, she knew that, but by her own accord. Not like this.

Her palms still pressed against the door, she waits a few moments before she decides that she's confident. She takes a step back as her hands slides off the door, releasing a heavy sigh, convinced that she has him trapped in there. She turns around, not even thinking about the bold fact that her shirt was still unbuttoned and the lapels of her dress shirt barely covering her nipples. She looks at him straight in the eye and repeats her request again. “Please don’t tell.” Her face red and her brow forward, her mouth slightly parted as though she wants to say more.

Sans, with no choice but to hear her out, for now. Although, he didn’t really have a comment to that request just yet and stands there with a silent pause.

“Please, sir. You can’t tell anyone that I’m a girl. You monsters may not know this, but humans got these restrictions…” she continued, “You monsters got it easy since you guys don’t have to abide to human rules. Ya’see…” her eyes veer down. “Women get the short end of the stick… women can’t wear whatever they want, they can’t work grave yard shifts and they can’t do men’s work…” she added, the entire time her voice unwavering.

With his hands shoved into his pockets he analyzed every sentence she said. **“Women”... “they”… she didn’t even added herself to those sentences. She even said “men’s work” as if those words were her own… the way she talks…** **I wonder how long she’s been posin’ as a man?**   **Must be for quite a while since I don’t hear any inkling of woman talk in anything that she said.** He thought, raising his head.

“And the pay is almost close to nothin’ for women… actin’ like this… it’s the only way I can survive…” she said, ashamed more over the fact that she got caught than her pretending to be a man. “So please, don’t tell anyone.” She begged for the final time raising her voice just a sliver as she gazed back to his eyes.

Sans steps closer, pondering to himself as he makes his way towards her, until he is looming over her. “That seems a bit much to go to such lengths to dress like a boy to only get 5 cents more on yer paycheck, don’t cha think?” he snickered. “And what do I get in return for keeping your secret, huh?”

He looked down at her watching her expression, watching her getting frustrated to think of an answer. He took it upon himself to take a closer look at her soul. His gaze lowered to her chest where her soul resided, his brow perked up in interest. Her soul showed wear and tear and he thought to himself, **something broke this girl**. Her soul was dim red, a rare soul color for sure. He recalled the last time he saw a soul with the same hue, although, the soul he remembered was much more vibrant and beautiful, none like it in the word he thought. This soul though, showed signs of fraying around the edges and evidence of remolding. Cracks all around her soul, something indeed broke this girl, and she survived. Even though, it appears that she was able to persevere through whatever broke her, in her condition now though, it looks as if her soul can’t take anymore abuse and just one good move would destroy her. Almost made him wonder what’s keeping her together, but he already knew the answer. Her soul, her dim red soul was what gave it away.

DETERMINATION.

Frisk struggles to find an answer, her eyes darting back in forth inside her head trying to think of something to say. “I-I don’t have anything to give you…” she looked down in disappointment, feeling guilty. But there was nothing for her to feel guilty about, she knows. She even knew that he probably, no, he knows she has nothing that he wanted that she could possibly give him. Telling by the way he’s dressed, he was dangerous, could get anything he wanted with the right connections and he had all of them. Mafia, no doubt about it. She knew she was nothing in comparison and if she did have something it was long gone, she burned it all when she chose to become a man. Her heart slowly ached, there was no better answer she could give him, all the while thinking that it was at least better than saying nothing at all.

“Ya’know I could just spill the beans right now and won’t lose a wink of sleep over it.” He said teasingly, thinking how he couldn’t help himself and all the more watching her soul react to his response.

Sans was under orders of the Don to recruit the human, but the Don never specified on how to do it and thought he might as well have a little fun while he’s at it. His week had been uneventful, his brother taking over their Don’s duties, hoping from human establishment to establishment, and of course, the one task that took all the fun out of his time in the city was finding HER. He thought he would have to sweet talk the human, but now it looks like she’s the one who needs to start sweet talking him. Besides, Sans had other things on his mind and finding a wannabe he-she. Although, it was a good thing that they’ve found their human, granted that he’s actually a “she”, but that was just a little side bump compared to what he’s really after.

He watches as her eyes widen and her soul grew red, she holds her breath as the words stung her. She knows it was true, he had nothing to gain keeping a pathetic human’s secret. Although, out of everything she’s gone through, what she’s sacrificed she could already vividly see the turn of events as if he already told unfold right in front of her and she cries out in desperation.

“PLEASE, I’LL DO ANYTHING-,” she breathes out, as she clasps her hands to her mouth catching herself in mid-sentence, mid-yelling. Her heart pounding, her back lowered as her eyes looked directly to the ground, wide and in shock. **What the fuck am I thinking?!** She thought, praying he didn’t hear.

He paused, “Oh really?” he grinned, “Anything, you say?”

His voice rang in her ears, the weight of his words made her chest tight, her heart sank, and her soul dims back and almost to a dark shade of maroon.

He steps closer to her, she still looking down, her hands forced to her mouth from the initial shock she gave herself. He slips his hand under her arms, placing his hand under her chin and slowly lifts her head up, her hands sliding off her face. She now looking straight into the lights that are his eyes.

“You are well aware what you just offered me, right?” his smile much wider, “That’s quite an offer… better than nothing that’s for sure.” **Got you**. He thought.

“N-no I didn’t mean to say it like tha-”

“Oh, but you did,” cutting her off mid-sentence, his voice soft. “Plus, you’re not really in a position to tell me what to do. You’re the one who let the cat out of the bag, there’s no one to blame but yourself.”

She knows that he was right, but the idea of owing the mafia caused her soul to chip just a little and her breath withheld. Her thoughts echoed, **not again… I can’t lose everything to the mafia again…** She thought, to think that there couldn’t be anything else that they could take from her, but she is so wrong. There’s no mystery as to what he’ll have her do or worse what he’ll do to her, it was already implied the moment she said it. “ _ANYTHING_ ,” she basically screamed it. Though she’s never seen what monsters CAN do, she didn’t leave anything out of her imagination as to what they COULD do. Although, him being a skeleton… It’s only wishful thinking. Her breathing growing shallower as her throat grows cold and tight, as if the hands of death had already made his grasp and is just lingering… Waiting to just snap her throat, her neck, shut.

As for Sans, he knows he’s being mean, his teeth grind slightly at the thought that he should take it a bit easier on her. He did considered, before learning her identity that is, that he was going to be sympathetic. After all, before, the kid did get roughed up in a span of 2 days. Sans thought for sure that the kid would end up dead next to a sewer by the end of the week after seeing and hearing what happened today. However, at the same time, he couldn’t help but get a little irked that somehow she could have avoided all of this.

Yes, the monsters need an edge, someone from the other side of the species spectrum to gather intel in those restricted human only zones, but he couldn’t help but feel like he had to make it personal. He didn’t care what her reason was, he even thought that her reason was stupid, **a girl dressin’ like a guy just cause the pay ain’t great?** He mockingly thought. **My good suit was ruined by you cause you couldn’t just earn money like every other decent whore out there! All because you’re pride was on the line?!** It enraged him. With her begging and even sweeter, offering “anything” to make sure no one knew made it even better on his part. It’s the best punishment for her, for making the Don, him and the rest of the mob go through all these lengths to worry about who they thought was a man, who they knew without a doubt in their mind, born a man.

Now, instead of sweetening a deal for a man, he can have a woman wrapped around his fingers and didn’t have to offer up anything other than keeping her stupid secret. All he had to do is make sure he got her for real, and make it fun at the same time while he's at it.

“If you really want me to keep this secret of yours then I think it’d be smart to keep your offer of “anything”,” he said as he takes his foot and places it between her legs, leaning towards her and her leaning back against the door. Then, he moves his hand from under her chin to her check, his rings on his knuckles gently pressed on the side of her face.

Her eyes widened and glosses over as her breath goes still. The tightness in her chest and the feeling of cold run up her throat as her soul trembles. Thinking that she just sold her body to the Grim Reaper and the lewd thoughts of what he might do to her… Will do to her.

She lowers her gaze as she thinks of Jem, **poor Jem** , she thought, she always thought. Even her “girlfriend” doesn’t know about Frisk’s gender, her true… self, whatever it was anymore, she never knew. The lifestyle the entertainer chose for herself as Frisk remembers Jem telling her that she wanted to sleep with men, lots of men, and wants to get paid doing it. It always lingered in the back of Frisk’s mind, **she doesn’t really want that, does she?** But the expression never left her “girlfriend’s” face, so it had to be true. As for Frisk, from the first day Jem invited her first client over she always thought she would never end up like her. But there's a difference between Jem and her, Jem wanted it, not her.

As despair fills her body, with the last bit of her mind distantly screaming some encouragement of hope to only be out spoken by her reasoning, **it’s all so I can still live as a man…** Accepting and not accepting her situation, the lights in her eyes fading and her vision blurring out of focus.

 He leans closer, his face next to hers, cheek bone to cheek. He turned his hand so his palm was caressing her face as he lets out a heated breath to her ear. She makes a slight gasp to the sensation, probably the last breath she’ll ever take as her eyes just stare straight on, not even looking at anything.

**Just a flinch… Not even putting up a fight.** Irritated at the thought that she is _that_ desperate, that she’s going to take it like the man she’s not. He glances downward, haven’t made any more moves and keeping her there to take a look at the change in her soul.

Black.

 Totally unresponsive, not even sure she is all there. Not sure if she’s really here in this moment. He hears a distant voice in the back of his mind, telling him that he should stop now. Telling him that she is convinced and had to stop. He closed his eyes and accepted his intuition, “Though, I hear you do have some info digging skills and I guess I can take that as even for you splashing me earlier,” he sighed, trying not to sound so disappointed. He could see the red return to her soul, he slides his hand off her face and steps back to see her in full view.

 She making a slight gasp, the life jumping back inside of her.

 

_Breathe._

 

She collects herself to even breathing, hope returning to her eyes. Her mouth opened before she could think.

“I can do that! If it’s info you need I’ll do it!” she said eagerly, with her head straight up looking at him in the eyes.

**Well that was fast.** He thought, feeling slightly impressed, but still disappointed. “You sound confident.” Shoving his hands back in his pockets.

“I am. I’ll do anything to keep my identity a secret.”

“So trusting… You know if you screw up I might end up _screwing_ you or better killing you.”

“I don’t plan on doing either the screwing up or you…” She glared. “I rather have everyone know I died as a man, than live everyone knowing me as a woman if it comes to it,” she said with a stern voice.

He found her choice of resolve disjointing. **She really hates being a woman that much, huh?** He thought as he could see her soul has flared up a bright red and the cracks fade into the light.

He takes a step back and can practically feel her soul cheering for victory, he was annoyed but shook it off. He had his fun, for now. He got what he came for and lets out a sigh, “Okay…”

She looks at him straight in the eye.

“I’ll need you tomorrow mornin’, here.”

“Not tomorrow. Friday.”

“Thursday,” he demanded. “Can’t let you have free reign now, can I? For what it’s worth, you’re the Delta’s property now.”

Her fist tightens as she couldn’t have the choice to think on it and nods.

“Good girl, Frisky.” He said snickered as he steps back again, his back straight, the gesture to tell her to “move aside”.

“Frisk.”

“What?”

“It’s just Frisk. And you?”

He let out a small chuckle, “Sans.”

“Sans?”

“Sans Gaster. Sans Gaster, the skeleton.”

“Mr. Gaster.”

He glared, “Just Sans is fine.”

“Gaster, is better.” She glared back and continues, “I’m doing work for you, you and I can agree that we are not “friends”,” she emphasized. “I’d like to keep it that way.” She said as that had anything to do with his name. She steps away from the door and brushed against his arm with her shoulder as she goes to grab the binds hanging off the bathroom stall.

He eyes her the entire time, glaring, **FINE**. Once he sees her beginning to put the binds on he walks out the door, not without saying one last thing, “I wonder how will your girlfriend will feel about our arrangement.”

Frisk hears the door close and quickens her pace of getting herself together and fallows out. She’s surprised to see that he was gone, she thought she didn’t take long to get herself together. She relaxes her shoulders and release a sigh as she grabs a nearby pink arm chair with gold lining and sits on it. Bending down placing her head in her hands, **how am I gonna get out of this one…** she thought with a tired and defeated look on her face.

Then, she jumps at the sound of the lady’s fitting room door open and looks up to spot Jem. Jem still in her flashy red dress, walks in and spots Frisk in her slouched over posture.

“Hiya, Frisky.” She said, walks towards Frisk. She trails her hand up Frisk’s arm, strolling over behind the chair as she places her arms around Frisk from behind. “You did, great out there. What’s wrong, Frisky baby?” she said, tiling her head, leaning in to give Frisk a kiss.

Frisk shoves her hand into her pocket and pulls out a clutched hand of crumpled up 1’s. “Here, now will you knock it off?” she said, irritated as she held it up towards Jem’s hands.

“Thank you, Frisky,” she said teasingly, cupping her hands out in front of Frisk.

Frisk places the money in her hands, three dollars, two pennies and a nickel.

“Wow, what a haul!” She said as she looked at the yield. As to Frisk’s response was taking the nickel out of the pile. “Hey!”

“And this is for making me pull that stunt for you.”

Jem scoffed, then shrugged it off and walks around trailing her hand down Frisk’s shoulder and sitting herself on Frisk’s lap. “Say, tell a girl were you learned that,” she continued. “A girl could find that useful.” She finished, demonstrating what Frisk did to convince the audience that she was kissing Jem. Jem placed her hands by the sides of Frisk’s face and placed both of her thumbs over her lips and kissed the tops of her overlapping thumbs, ending with her head back expressing a “muah” sound.

Unbeknownst, to the two ladies in the dressing room, Sans stands by with the door that Jem left ajar for him to ease drop. Him also thinking from the demonstration, that it was a clever move on Frisk’s part and certainly got him convinced. He continues to listen in, wanting to confirm something.

“Saw it in a book once, actors do it on Broadway-” Frisk pauses to realization and snaps back. “Don’t see why you need to do it? You kiss guys all the time!” Frisk exclaimed, annoyed.

“Who put your underwear up in a bunch?” She asked as she raised her voice. “You know you’re the only guy for me, Frisky” she said, tickling Frisk’s chin.

Frisk then shoves her off of her lap. “For all the years we’ve known each other, I’ve said it many times then and I will say it now, I’m gay!” She declared.

**So not even his “girlfriend” knows… heh, that’s all I needed to hear.** He thought as he walked away.

 

* * *

A few hours later, Jem and Frisk emerged from the backstage entrance with their arms linked. Jem wearing a more conservative dress and hat to match and Frisk looking more tired his shoulders declining.

Frisk looks up at the loft and could see Sans, there smoking a cigarette and he wasn’t alone, new to Frisk’s eye, she spots a long haired red headed figure sitting next to Sans. Though it was too dim and the group placed far away for Frisk to catch anyone that was seated there and along with that huge monster, which happened to be a big brown bear wearing a red suit. She eyes Sans, who happened to turn his gaze back to her direction and Frisk pressed her lips and veers her gaze elsewhere.

“Oooo gonna walk Jem home tonight, Frisky? Can we come?” one of the girls at the bar said on the behalf of a group of girls apparently waiting to walk home with Jem.

Frisk didn’t find any harm in it and thought at least Jem will have company. “Yeah, sure. I’m only escorting her partway,” She turns her gaze at Charger looking thankful that Frisk didn’t die in the changing room. “If it’s alright with you, boss?” she asked.

Charger glared at Frisk to only change his expression last minute in hopes to joke with her. “I don’t have a problem with that. You could use the fresh air anyway.” He declared.

She nods and cracks a slight smile, then feeling another arm looped around hers, she sees that the show girls are now around Jem and Frisk giggling. She lets out a sigh and strolls on out. Before she leaves she spots her companions, Harry and Joe sleeping in a booth commenting in hear head how “great friends” they were and once again never there after all that happened.

 

* * *

 Seeing the rowdy group of women leave the establishment along with their human target, Sans looks back to his friends seated next to him, Undyne and Gerson.

“So? Do we have his cooperation?” Gerson leaned in curious and eager to hear the status report.

Sans sends him a wink and a thumbs up, “Yep and ready to start by Thursday.”

“Thursday? Why Thursday?” Asked Undyne.

Sans shrugged, thinking back that he should have asked but remembered how the little twat rebelled back at him after giving her a last minute reprieve. He took a drag on his cigarette and exhaled black and blue smoke, “At least we got him.”

“Well this is a good time as any I would say,” Gerson said relieved. “Let’s get started onto step two…”

Both Sans and Undyne leaned in as to listen in to Gerson’s hushed voice. “Sans, my boy, I need you to get in contact with any reachable contactor,” he continued as he raised his head and leaned back. “We can’t get any information off the boy until the day after tomorrow, so while we’re waiting we might as well hire some extra muscle.” He finished, as he nods over to Undyne, who reached into the inner lining of her suit and placed down files all with company names. “They all have contact information, so see if you can get one for us tomorrow.”

**More negotiating I see.** Sans thought, as he bends over and places his hand on his cheekbone an elbow on his knee and his free hand on the other knee, sighing heavily. He eyes the files before him and surprised to see only three. He scoops up the paper work and slides it into his jacket and nods at Gerson.

Gerson nods in response and turns to look at Undyne, “Okay Undyne, you will meet with Papyrus tomorrow an-”

“WHAT?!” Sans yells out, his fedora almost sliding off, then he looks at the party and sits back to regain his composure.

Gerson could see the frustration on Sans’ face and exhales heavily, “Give it another day, I know I’ve been working you two brothers hard and it’s definitely showing in your work.” He said compassionately. “Your brother is working on behalf of your guys’ Don. If circumstances where different, you’d be grabbing orders and be doing jobs together. But while your Don is incapacitated, I got to look out for the Delta’s wellbeing as a whole.”

Sans grips his knee and took another drag. “Yeah I know…” he exhaled.

“Heh hell, maybe when we have that human give us details on the boarders we might be able to find you two skelebros a more suitable place here in the city.” Gerson chuckled.

Sans nods, but he knew, until then he’ll have to wait a little longer.

“Other than that, has any new word come up yet?” Gerson leered.

He shook his head. “You know I’ll tell you when I do.”

“You better…”

 

* * *

Frisk standing at a corner of a street, watching as Jem and her entourage walk home without her. She waves her hand in goodbye as the party fades down the street.

Frisk takes a deep breath and changes course towards the pub.

_58, 59, 60…_

Every step she takes she could feel the weight of her chest getting heavier. Whatever adrenaline she got from her 2nd wind was slowly fading away and the tightness coming back in small vibrations.

_61, 62, 63, Breathe…_

The night wasn’t over yet and she knows that he’ll probably be there… waiting. She prays that he wouldn’t be there waiting. It only took her 5 mins to walk Jem to where they parted, she wanted to use 10 to walk back. No, she didn’t want to go back. She drops her head looking down at her feet, thinking maybe somehow her legs will move her somewhere else or turn around to go home.

_64, 65, 66, Breathe… 67…_

She can’t leave, even though there was nothing stopping her, she can’t let anything stop her. She needed to last, last to the very end. Whenever that is… She thinks to herself that it’s okay and trying to trick her mind to believe he will be gone by the time she gets back.

_68, 69… You’re not there anymore… Breathe… It’s okay… Breathe…_

Every crack and line the further she walks grows all the more familiar to her. She makes a turn and back where she started, when the night started, across the street before her nightmare started. She didn’t have to look up to know, the only light now that was on could be off and she would know, back at _Charger’s_.

_70… You’re not there anymore, no one can hurt you… you are free._

**No, I’m not.** She argues with herself.

_You’re not THERE anymore…_

The voice implying a different thought, forcing herself to vividly believe she was somewhere far. By a creek, a fish jumping out of the water just to splash down again. As the last off centered image of the fish splashing back down gets interrupted by sounds of casual laughter.

She snaps her head back up and finds herself by the pub’s front door. She looks to the right of her, Joe and Harry outside leaned against the wall, Joe smoking and Harry never leaving the human’s side. She looks to the immediate front of her, a black Ford with its back passenger seat door opened, Sans and the red head standing beside the opening.

The leftover adrenaline leaving her as she gazed at the source of her panic and the tightness and pain coming back tenfold, flinching ever so slightly. Not daring to meet eyes with the man she believes to be her Grim Reaper.

Sans, catching movement in his peripheral vision glances up from the car to only see the last moments of the front door of the pub closing and the human and monster oddity standing beside it. Only Joe with a curious face noticed the same door that just closed next to him.

 

* * *

Wednesday, the next day, 10:00am at a noisy construction site located in the South Eastern side of Central Division. Sans stands at an entry way of a fenced off construction site, to his surprise he could see a few monsters working on big metal girders alongside humans. He was told from a few other monsters that Central Division was off limits, but he guesses that it was only speculation. The humans of the construction site were all wearing different array of outfits, either wearing brown overalls or dark trousers with long sleeve shirts, paddy caps and heavy duty shoes or boots.

They appear to be working on a 5 or 6 story building, it was bare and all that was there was a metal frame of girders that crisscrossed along the outer wall of the structure. He eyes some men on the ground hulling up another girder on a rope rigged to one of the higher levels, it was almost mesmerizing to watch them work.

“Are you this “Sans”, I’m sapposed ta be meetin’ with?” a voice said behind him.

He turns to see a stocky man just 3 feet shy from Sans’ height, smoking a cigarette and wearing a white rolled-up long sleeve shirt with black trousers that were being held up by black suspenders. His hair receding towards the back of his head and the man’s attempt to hide his baldness by combing over his remaining hair over the bald spot wasn’t at all that convincing.

The man took a drag from his cigarette and looks at the monster straight in the eye, waiting for the skeleton to answer his question. Sans looks over at the man and nods as he tips his hat up just a bit.

“Sal, I take it?” he holds out a hand.

The man looks at him and then his hand and reaches for his Sans’ hand, gives it a good squeeze and one shake, releases it then turns, “You’re here for some muscle, right?” he glances over his shoulder, Sans nods with a smile on his face. Sal turns his attention forward, “Alright, come this way.”

The two head into the site, where a decently sized mobile office was placed against the fence. Sal takes point heading up the ramp and opening the door for his guest. As soon as Sans entered, Sal followed closely behind closing the door muffling the noise coming from outside. Sans glances around, two separate rooms that he could distinctly see, one to the immediate right of him was a kitchen and lounge area furnished with a couple of tattered sofas, a refrigerator, cabinets with a stove and a sink with a window facing the construction site. And in front of him a wall that opens up to a desk, assuming it to be Sal’s office. Papers and folders and boxes upon boxes of paper work. 3 large filing cabinets behind the desk obscuring the window and 2 more overstuffed filing cabinets adjacent to the desk. The desk itself had paperwork scattered all around. The only thing in the room that seemed to be organized was a book shelf against the wall beside the 2 filing cabinets. Sal walks Sans over to his desk, once Sans enters the room he spots a hallway to the right of him leading down from his office quarters to a door with a sign that read _LOCKERS_.

Sal manages to pull out a chair for Sans, Sans kindly removed his hat and placed it on a somewhat straightened out stack of papers on the desk and takes a seat. As for Sal who is just standing behind his desk, he took in a deep drag of his cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke from his nose. “Never thought in my years, I’d have a monster as a client,” he didn’t seem amused but he also didn’t seem upset about it. “Fuck, times achangin’ I guess. But what can I do for yous? I’m on a tight schedule and the resources I have is limited. When you called, I’m under the impression that you will compensate me greatly for lending you my boys.”

“That’s right, I can supply resources if you need it that badly.”

Sal bites the butt of his cig, “What exactly do you need my men for?”

“For now, I got a cargo ship coming off of South East Division that needs to be unloaded. Your city’s not kind enough to lend us any resources in transporting materials from the harbor,” he continued with his hands open out. “Of course we could use our cars, but not for the heavy stuff and it’s a little unethical to have monsters carry the stuff all the way across the city. I mean you have monster’s workin’ here you should know what it’s like.” He said.

Sal paused.

“I will gladly compensate you.”

“I heard you the first time…” He ponders to himself, looking down. “How many?”

“I’ll take any that live near that district.”

Sal pauses, running some sort of information through his head. “Most of the men that could possibly work are those of East Division.” He scratches his chin, looking around the mess he calls an office. “I can get you the files for those men, but you’ll have to wait a while, I’ll have to find them,” he said looking at Sans. “That is, if you’re not in a hurry.”

He puts his hand up in a “not at all” gesture. “I don’t mind.”

“Alight,” he clasps his hands and rubs them together, mentally preparing himself to find what he’s looking for. “Is there anything I can get you while you wait?”

Sans points to his teeth as he looks at Sal. Sal readjusts his mouth, positioning the cigarette in his mouth to be pointed straight up as he looks at it, then looks questionably at the monster as he points to his cigarette.

The monster nods.

Baffled, he feels around his person until his hands feel around his back pocket, he grabs a stick from the pack, pulls it up just a bit and holds out the pack towards Sans. As for Sans, he grabs the stick, now all he has to do is light it. Sal goes back feeling around again for his lighter, but stops to see that the cig was already in his teeth and it already lit.

“Well I’ll be damned…” he said, scratching his head.

Sans gets up from his chair, “Welp, you don’t mind me looking around will ya?”

“N-nah, be my guest.” Sal snaps back. He turns around and starts at one end of the room.

Sans takes a deep drag and strolls back out to where they first came in. **Well so far so good.** He exhaled.

He walks along the walls, seeing framed photographs line it, one that catches his eye is one of what appears to be a group of humans at a site and a sign being held by 2 humans kneeling down beside it, it reads _CITY HALL, FALL 1916_. 12 years ago.

Then, tearing him from the picture a commotion rising from behind him towards the door that he entered from. He strolls over to the window that had its blinds down that was set next to the door. Peering through to see a group of humans gathered together, sitting on the foundation and the girders that was being hoisted midair are tied off to the side. Assuming that they are taking their breaks, Sans recognizes some of them from the pub the previous night. Two specifically, one man, the man that kicked Frisk and the other, he assumes to be the man who tripped Frisk causing her to ruin his nice suit. **Heh… never thought I’d get my chance for payback.** He grinned.

Casually checking to see if Sal was watching, Sans turns his gaze towards the girders. His hand glows blue and in reaction so do the girders, “Just a little scare won’t hurt no body,” he muttered to himself. His smile more wicked, as he flicks his wrist and the girders began to sway. The knots keeping the girders from falling, fray and eventually the metal beams plummeting down towards the group. One the faces of the offenders look skyward to the threat, Sans gathers his magic and was only able to catch 2 of the beams as the rest fall.

A nervous drop of sweat trickles down his face as he screwed up, “shit…!” He looks back and luckily Sal was in his own little word searching for papers. Sans turns his attention back to the window.

Monsters nearby rush most of the group out of the way, as for one mole monster who was way too small to push one of the men. Finally, one of their coworkers drags both monster and human from the path of the falling debris last minute.

The men gather around, perplexed on what occurred, as for Sans who steps away from the blinds and breathes in a grand sigh of relief. At the same time, Sal lays a hand on his shoulder looking back at the organized mess, thinking it looks somewhat decent enough, “Okay, I think I found the gist of it,” he said patting Sans back and finally turning his head to assure him that he found what he was looking for.

He leads him back to his desk with a pile of folders all organized in array of colors, “Okay buddy, take your pick,” he said as he flips through and grabs a bunch of green folders and a couple of black folders and fans them out on his desk. He looks up and sees Sans with an uneasy smile, stretching the color of his shirt, unsure of the smile since it was that of a skeleton. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He said as he glanced up at him. Sans then, grabbed the fanned out assortment and fingers through them as he sits back at his seat. After calming down, he couldn’t help but notes on the different folders, “What’s with the colors?”

“Color coded for what region.” His hand on the pile of other folders explaining the different folders: red (South), blue (West), yellow (South West), orange (South East).

And in Sans’ hands were green (East) and black, “and the black folders?” he cruelly implied, “What? Your colored employees?”

“Monsters…” Sal said, straight faced but his voice waved at the last bit of that statement.

**Ah even better.** He sarcastically commented in his head. He counts the files and has already noticed on their blank faces, the tabs read an initial and a name.

“D-don’t get me wrong, mista,” he continues. “I use black to code the monsters since they’re somewhat of a liability.”

“Then why hire them?” he glances at the human, annoyed and continues scanning through the green folders.

“Heh believe it or not, I thought the same thing,” he catches Sans expression change from annoyed to a glare. “L-long story short, they’ve proved themselves to have great work ethic… and I needed the help.”

Sans let out a relaxed sigh.

“Regardless, I only want what is best for my boys, no matter, you will pay my humans as well as how you pay your monsters. And you said you’d pay ‘em ALL well.”

“Oh and that I will.” He said confidently as he reached the black folders, all having a green dot at the corner. Assuming that it meant that the monsters live in East Division, he eyes a bunch of familiar monster names and then stops. “I’ve never heard of a monster named, “Spara”?”

Sal reaches over and grabs the folder at the same time saying, “Ah he’s not supposed to be in that pile.” he, about to place the folder with the rest of the pile. “Spara ain’t a monster,” he stated.

“Then why the black folder?”

“Liability,” he said his hand hovering over the pile.

“Even more so than the monsters?” He raised his brow. “Heh that’s even more questionable than keepin’ monsters,” he chuckled.

Sal pauses as he looked at Sans. “Yeah, well he might be able to help you actually,” He hands the folder back, “South Eastern Division harbor, is under heavy “no monster” restrictions despite the rest of South East Division being “Okay” with monsters,” he said adding inflection to the “okay”, “but I know Spara can spot you one. Smart guy too, knows where everything is.” He said as he sits down at his desk and goes on the intercom calling for Spara.

Sans casually takes a drag as he leans back, he watches as Sal opens the window behind his desk and starts fanning out the smoke with papers. He curiously eyes him walking towards the door and opening it, holding it open. He looks back at Sans and makes a “kill it” gesture with his hand swishing at his neck. Sans lifts the cigarette in a questioning manner and sees the human make a serious nod. Irritated, he takes his cig and kills the lit ember, while Sal smooshes his cigarette at the soul of his shoe and looks up as he spots someone.

Sans laces his fingers and rests his hands on his belly as he hears voices coming from outside, inaudible to hear really, until Sal responds, “Yes, you’re safe. No smoke…” he said as he holds the door for an orange dirt covered man in a paddy hat, dirty brown trousers and a dusty long sleeve shirt. The man immediately coughing going through the threshold, “Mostly…” Sal finished, closing the door.

The man takes off his hat and Sans’ brow rises, his eye sockets narrowed and his smile slightly sinister, “Well well well…”

The man stopped and froze to the familiar sound, his face lifts and it reveals to be Frisk.

Unaware of what is transpiring before him, Sal pats Frisk on the back and demands, “Sit, Spara.” And walks to the other side of his desk with his elbows on the desk and his hands laced in front of his face.

Already ordered, Frisk pulls up a chair in front of the desk, a small plume of dust flies away the moment she sat down… next to Sans.

**So this is why you couldn’t come? Cause you didn't want to miss work?** Sans smiling at her, as she looks straight at Sal. Trying to ignore Sans, every occasion swatting at the air and coughing.

With dirt covering every inch of her face and body leaving the only spot to be dust free is the top of her head, which was covered by her hat.

Sans glances back to Sal.

“Spara, this mo-gentleman will be requiring your assistance,” he stated, as he rests his hands on the desk, “This is-”

“I'm familiar with Mr. Gaster, Spencer.” She said straight faced. Sans, responding with a slight flinch, hearing the sharp tone when she said his name.

He snorted, “Heh… you too, huh?” he glancing at Sans and then back to Frisk. “Already then, I’ll leave you two to it.” Sal said as he gets up and exits the office and soon the mobile.

Frisk still sitting straight faced not saying anything, while Sans is snickering beside her.


	3. The Grim Reaper and the Task at Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her Suffering-His Confusion  
> Her Friends- His Hired Hands
> 
> Her Mission- His Mission  
> Her Choice- His Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just posting this before work, might need to go back an edit.

Sans stares at Frisk, her still gaze fixed on the desk even after Sal’s departure. She flinches at the sound of his voice.

“So…?” he leans up, his right hand on his knee, his left elbow on the other while holding his face in his hand. All with an amused expression, “This is why you couldn’t come today? Because of work?” He chuckled, “Ya’know when I said “you’re Delta’s property,” it didn’t imply that we wouldn’t compensate yo-”

“You wouldn’t understand…” she stated, gripping the arms of her chair. Hearing the word “property” echo in her mind. Just hearing the word made the corner of her nose to scrunch up, her lip curled showing her gritting teeth. Dropping everything that she’s worked so hard to get to, all of her time invested just to go to a monster meeting? As if. One day with the mobsters, even if she did get compensated for her time, it just felt wrong. Wrong to just disappear on work, wrong to not finishing up on her side jobs, all just to stay idle at some meeting. She doesn’t even know how bad these monsters are, but considering how twisted Sans is, she has a pretty good idea. “So, blackmailing Spencer as well?”

“On the contrary, he is willing to cooperate, no blackmail or bribery necessary.” He smiled, watching her as the anger melt away and stayed silent.

He scans her from head to toe and then glances up towards her eyes. Her body facing towards the desk that he could only see her profile, so he could only see one eye. Not as close to her compared to the night before, but close enough to notably make a comparison. Only able to gaze at one side of her, recalls when she came in that the other side was somewhat symmetrical. The first thing he noticed was her eyes. Even though her face covered in dirt, he can see the impression of the dark circles that were under them. **Came here straight from the pub, huh?** He thought, seeing her lids not even raise even slightly and stayed half-lidded.

Eventually, his eyes wandered down lower and stops to look at her chest, immediately drawn there. Taking a closer look at her soul, her soul back to when they first met, dim red. Not as fiery when he left her in that bathroom that’s for sure. His eyes then focuses back and analyzes her as a whole. Taking account to how she sounded and how she carried herself, he starts drawing the fine lines as to how people could honestly be convinced that she is a “he”.

He notes how low and somewhat rough her voice was, **must be talking like that for a long time, since I don’t hear any squeak in her.** He recalls when she screamed at him, both when she begged him not to tell and that she’ll do _“ANYTHING”_. Both times her voice didn’t even rise to the higher octaves that women reached when normal women screamed. **That’s right, normal women…** he thought. **She’s not a normal woman. Heh… besides ruining peoples fine suits she also ruined herself. She don’t sound like a woman and doesn’t even look like a woman.** Even looking at her hair and estimated it being even shorter than most of the human males he’s encountered. It got him wondering, “Just out of curiosity, how long have you been a man?” he asked, still smiling and brow raised.

“That’s none of your business.”

“I think I have the right to know,” he probed.

“I have no means in trusting you. You know what I am and that’s all you’ll ever need to know,” her voice stern.

“You trust that I won’t tell.”

“No.” She said bluntly, “I can’t trust you with that either. I have no choice in the matter.”

 “Heh… and whose fault was that?” he said, rubbing salt in the wound.

 

_Breathe…_

His cruel tone causes her brows forward, she could feel the choking feeling she felt before grasping around her neck. Her chest tightening up again, the sensation reopening old wounds that she’s long forgotten.

_Breathe… He won’t hurt you…_

**You don’t know that…** she argued.

_Breathe… He’s not…_

A sickening familiar feeling closing in to her heart. **I know… But…** she couldn’t finish the thought. The look on her face dissolves from anger to despair. Sitting there next to Sans, it was choking her and even the smell of lingering cigarette smoke didn’t make it any easier for her breathing. The only thing that could help her is tucked away in her pocket. Even that, even knowing that, it felt like it was so far away and out of her reach. She wouldn’t dare taking it out in front of him, it would just give him more ammunition. If he were to know, there would be no doubt in her mind that he would use it to just have it dangle in her face, just to get her to do his bidding. Every inch of her body, her muscles screaming for her to leave. Eventually, she finally caves and shoots up from her seat, “if you’re not going to ask me for what Spencer had brought me in here for, then I’m going back to work.” Her fists tightening, but slowly eases on grip. All the while never making eye contact, not even the slightest head turn.

Her sudden rise made him jump just ever so slightly, she was just sitting there for a while not saying anything. He’d turned away, figured that he struck a nerve with his last response and then she went quiet. **Okay, okay… I had my fun… just one more** , suddenly when she got up, he thought she was going to launch herself at him. Even he could feel the tension in the room. With all that silence he could cut the thick air with his finger that it was so tense. Then he looked back to her face, he could see an array of expressions wavering from tired to mad to outright furious. However her face now, he could only see a little corner of the whites in her eyes as she stood there. He could see that they’re trembling and her mouth quivering as well.

He takes a quick glance at her soul. Still the same, it was like she was able to detach herself from her soul. Making herself taking all the punishment and leaving her very essence intact. Sans wonders how anyone can even do such a thing. Though, it did somewhat answered how she managed for this long.

As for her, she was just tired, 3 days in a row without any decent sleep and working with a messed up arm. She doesn’t even know what is making her more exhausted between: staying awake, standing, ignoring the pain and breathing. She is putting everything she can not to fall apart, now keeping herself together not to show any weakness to the only guy that is holding her life on a thin line of life and death. And the worse part for her is she knows that he’s enjoying every moment of it. **The sicko…**

Sans takes a moment and releases a heavy sigh. He knew when someone has hit their limit and it appears that she’s reached hers. Since she is going to be working for the monster mob, there’s no point trying to make it as clear as it already is now. It was already clear then. As to her reason for coming to work, instead of just calling in or coming to the Delta’s meeting, it was beyond him. Thinking she’s even more stupid, after her reasoning to be a man and definitely her reason now, whatever that is.

He stands, her immediate reaction of flinching was slightly delayed. Her head turns to face him and his assumption was internally confirmed. Tired and defeated, the only thing keeping her standing was sheer willpower and he’s certain that even she doesn’t know how long that will last her.

“Well…?” her tone sharp and her eyes tired. It was hard to tell if she was just staring or glaring due to her eyes unable to lift her lids any higher than the half-lidded stare.

“Your boss is letting me borrow you and your buddies, but I’ll tell you guys the details of it later today,” he stated. “But not just your boss, word on the street is you know a lot about the streets.”

Her lids getting heavier, just standing idle was making all the more difficult to stay awake. Now she’s processing information that she already knew and she’s getting impatient, **get to the point, bone head…** She snapped in her head.

“The job’s in South East harbor, which is-”

“You need me to get you and the monsters permits.” She stated bluntly.

There was no question or back story to it, she knew the moment she heard the word “harbor”. She didn’t mean to sound blunt, but probably, she thought it was all on reflex. Then, she finally focuses her gaze at him, not entirely locking stares but it was meant to be understood. He nods in response to her statement, which initially signified that it was safe for her to leave. All the while, making the air go from tense to awkward.

She grabs her hat, er eyes veer down as she leaves the room and heads for the door. Just before she could push the door open she was able to muster out one last thing to him, “I’ll get you the permits after work,” she managed, didn’t even bother to look at him, but stated it clear enough for him to hear it. He thought it was going to be some snappy retort, but despite this being their 2nd meeting, she was going to help him. Even though, she didn’t have much of a choice, he figured she just wanted to get this day over with.

The door closes behind her just to end up being opened by Sal, in Sal’s case he couldn’t be heard. Appearing to be talking casually with Frisk, not trying to get anyone’s attention, except for Sans who kept Frisk in his sites the whole time. They exchange a word or two and Sal heads back in. Then, Sans catches the last few moments of Frisk with her hands cupped to her face before the door cuts his sight of her for good.

“Yeesh…” Sal said to himself, thinking how zombified Frisk looked when he saw her outside. He manages to stroll back to his desk, his attention towards Sans. “Got what you needed?”

“For the most part.” Sans said shrugging and reaches for the chair, siting back in front of Sal’s desk. “Your boy is going to be useful that’s for sure.”

“Okay good, cause I do need to add one more to your roster if you’re goin’ to need Spara.” He flips through the stack of folders and manages to slide out a red folder. Red, someone from South Division. “You got plenty of muscle, but this is for Spara’s sake.”

He plops the folder on the table, the tab had only a name written in bold black letters, _JOE_.

Sans couldn’t help but feel a bit off, especially the bold hue of the folder didn’t seem to fit right amongst the green and black that was already on the table. “Joe?” he asked doubtfully.

“Joe.” He declared. “Those two started workin’ for me roughly around the same time. He don’t look much, but Joe’s the type to keep the peace,” he continued. “You saw Spara, right?” he asked, thumbing towards the door.

Sans nod.

“Not sure how long you’ve known Spara, but you get the idea, he’s not really a people person, right? … er at least when it doesn’t come with a job, that is.” He said, seeing Sans didn’t protest that accusation. “Ya’ see, Spara was the one ta convince me to hire monsters. I wasn’t the monster likin’ type.” He gets nervous, but shakes off the tone, “I’m not like that now, I’m a better, smarter man. But some of the guys resent that and I can’t fire the bastards cause all in all, they all put in great effort in getting the jobs done.”

“So that’s where Joe comes in?”

Sal snaps his fingers and points straight at him. “Hit the nail on the head!”

 

* * *

 Frisk exists the mobile office to see Sal walking towards her.

“Everything, squared.”

She nods.

“Good, if he hires you don’t be takin’ any wooden nickels, got it?” he said as he reached for the door.

“Whatever you say Spencer… Not like I haven’t done this before…” she then has a sudden realization and pulls his arm as he opens the door with the other. “Oh wait!”

Sal pauses with the door open.

She looks at her boss in the eye, “I found Julia…”

“Where?!” Sal with a frantic look on his face, restraining himself to not project in motion.

“She’s at your mother’s, down in the country side.”  She said, straight faced or as straight as she could managed with her still half-lidded eyes.

“Me Ma’s?! What the fuck she’s doin’ there?!”

She shook her head, her lids softly lowered.

Sal unable to read her expression, familiar with her gathering skills before, it registered to him that either meant she haven’t gathered enough info or “now’s not a good time”. Although, he knows Frisk’s work, she would never be so sloppy on the details that he immediately thought the latter. “Okay, we’ll talk about this later.” He said sternly.

Frisk nodded, she turns away once Sal headed inside the office. Finally able to escape to fresh air, Frisk manages to dig in her pockets and take out the brass tube that she had the previous night. She cups the brass cylinder in her hands and brings it to her mouth. She breathes in as it made a couple of hissing sounds. Feeling the choking sensation disappear from her throat, at least not until she reacts to the smoke that mixed with the air she breathed and coughs violently. Still holding the brass tube, she glances at it, she hears a voice in the back of her mind, **it’s getting lighter…**

Just about 2 hours into work since Frisk left the office, Sal makes motion to the front of the mobile office to sound the bell for lunch break. As for Sans, he decided to stay inside to read up on the files that he requested. Reading folder after folder until the sound of the bell making him jump from his trance. He rubbed his eye sockets and decides for a better decision to go outside and inspect on the men that he already read up until now.

The sun up high and beaming, marking it high noon. Sans steps out to see the workers spread out, some on the ground, by the fence and more scattered across the many girders. Eyeballing each one that he’s read up on: Benjamin Neuvondmon, Matthew Solan, Arron Bonoviso, Andrew Bonoviso, Arron’s younger brother, Jason Stevens and finally Brad Knight just marking only half of the roster. He still had to go through Frisk’s and Joe’s folders and 4 monsters that were chosen. He was going to save Frisk for last since, they’re already working together… or she’s cooperating at least.

Thinking of Frisk, he didn’t seem to catch any sign of her. A sound immediately to the left of him, by the mobile office, catches his attention. Frisk emerged with a ladder placed behind her neck, sitting on her shoulders with one arm on each sides of one of the ladder’s frames. Still in a half-lidded daze, didn’t even noticed Sans and marches towards the construction site’s entrance. Sans then hears additional tip tapping noise trailing behind her, he looks down and sees a line of mole monsters following behind, bringing up the rear was Arron the merhorse monster. **Well… this isn’t something you see every day…** he thought a bit perplexed. Wondering where the freaky conga line was trailing off to, he hears a light giggle of a bell coming from the site’s entrance.

Before the line, Sans recognizes a familiar face, his vendor buddy from his home town, the Nice Cream vendor. Frisk leading the moles to the traveling merchant, once she got to the cart she placed the ladder down next to her and holding it up in a 39 degree angle. An easy access for the mole monsters to reach so that they could be at the same eye level as the Nice Cream rabbit. As for Frisk, she just stays there her body faced away from the monster interactions. She looked bored, like waiting for the bus, Sans wondered if she did it out of the kindness of her heart or they asked her too. Then, her head perked up and waved her hand towards down the sidewalk, away from the construction site.

A man dressed in similar fashion as the construction workers rushes to Frisk’s side, he bends over trying to catch his breath. **Coming in late I see…** Sans thought, unimpressed. Then Sans jumps at the sound of Sal, who was heading back to the office catches a glimpse of the tardy member and yells out to him.

“YER LATE JOE!”

The man’s head turns to their direction, he takes off his hat and waves as a nervous chuckle manages its way out, he scratches the back of his head in embarrassment.

Sans find his face familiar and recalls to the night previous, **that’s Joe, huh?** He thought, a bit irritated. Thinking that the mafia’s money is going to be wasted on someone who can’t even come to work on time. Sans then pays close attention to the sight of Joe interacting with Frisk, although she appeared to be scolding him or something of the sort. Either way, he was just smiling through it, completely opposite to Frisk in every way. Or at least that’s what he could perceive from what he got through their last encounters. Only recalling the two times with his interaction with her face expressing feelings of shock, scared, desperation, exhaustion and anger. Compared to everyone else who knew her receives a slightly gentler side of those expressions, and probably much better expressions that he’s yet to see.

 

* * *

Before the lunch bell rang, Frisk is working on the 3rd story floor. Her legs dangling off both sides of a girder as she uses an industrial nail press to apply rivets to the support beams.

She hears the bell for lunch and gets herself together as she climbs her way down. Scanning the perimeter for a familiar face, no dice. She then eyeballs a bunch of mole monsters gathering around Aaron, Aaron’s expression looking nervous as he was being crowded by the tiny monsters. Frisk knew just by looking at him that they’d need help with the food vendor. She knew that the seahorse-man-fish monster was strong, but never knew when to ask for help when he gets overwhelmed. She couldn’t blame him though, since the mole monsters are so small they compared to him, it didn’t seem troubling after the first 10 times. However, this would make it a far bigger number after the many years of doing it. She strides over to the side of the mobile and grabs a ladder. Aaron seeing his saving grace and also getting the attention of the smaller monsters, they hopped and skipped over to Frisk.

Even after losing count of the many times they’ve done this, no words were ever exchanged. No “thank yous”, no “your welcomes”, nothing, Frisk didn’t think of it as doing anyone favors and for Aaron he thinks it as his admirers doing him a solid. Other than that, Aaron still accompanies the little monsters even though he got his chance of reprieve.

Frisk on the other hand, she thinks moving around will keep her mind busy from thinking of sleep. She leans against the ladder as the weight was being counter balanced by the many monsters crowding on it. She hears a yell coming from down the sidewalk and spots the familiar face she was looking for, her friend Joe. Joe bounding towards Frisk, finally reaching her and huffing and puffing for air.

“6 hours late, a new record if I’ve ever seen one.” Frisk said sarcastically. “What happened? Hung over or somethin’?”

“Just so you know…” a long pause ensued. “Yes.” He finally said, bluntly.

Then Joe jumps at the sound of Sal yelling at him, “YER LATE JOE!”

He takes off his hat and waves as he nervously chuckles and scratches the back of his head.

Joe smiles as a bead of sweat runs down his face, “Soooooo, did I miss anything?”

“It’s lunch right now, Aaron‘n Andrew might fill you in.” she said, still holding the ladder. 

“Nice! Hold that thought.” Joe then walks around and grabs Aaron, scoots him over to where Frisk is and make them switch places. He grabs Frisk by both shoulders and pushing her away from the monster crowd. “Ya’know he’ll never learn if you don’t tell him.” He said still shoving, the heels of her shoes dragging along the ground as she resists moving.

“We got an hour to kill, what else was I goin’ ta do?”

“Eat, stupid.”

 

* * *

 Sans back inside the mobile office and grabs the remaining files that he hadn’t gotten to yet and sits himself by the window. Raising the blinds so it wouldn’t look like he’s trying to hide something and reads up on Joe while observing him and Frisk.

Frisk and Joe along with the two Bonoviso brothers, are sitting atop a 3rd floor girder. Aaron Bonoviso standing roughly between Frisk and Joe’s height, being of average build. His face sporting a 5 o’clock shadow, his hair brown and disheveled. His younger brother Andrew, was the same height as his brother, though his build was much skinnier than his brother. Him having a mustache and much more recent 5 o’clock shadow and his brown hair much shorter in comparison.

The men’s’ legs dangle as they were faced towards the site entrance, their attention specifically towards the sidewalk. All 4 men laying their lunch boxes in their laps, all opening them one at a time. Andrew initiating the ritual by opening his box first, then his brother, after that was Joe and finally ending with Frisk. The first 3 men having decent lunches, as for Frisk, when she opened her box an array of seemingly uprooted vegetables filled it.

“Out in peoples gardens again, huh?” commented Joe.

“I asked permission…” she said, her head down, but manages to crack a pitiful smile.

“Fhy noff asff your uirlfrend to coof somfhin’ fer you?” Andrew asked, talking through a mouth stuffed with food.

“Fuckin’ stop talkin’ and eatin’ at the same time, choose one!” Aaron demanded looking at his brother in disgust, some of Andrew’s food on Aaron’s shirt.

The men laughed.

“Jem can’t cook. She tries, but she never tastes it so I end up being her test subject…” a sound of dread comes over Frisk’s voice as she recalls the last time Jem tried to cook clam broth soup, well more like Frisk had as Jem watched. Jem’s excuse for not eating her own meals was always being that she already ate from either at work or having ‘take out’, leaving Frisk to fend for herself. Except, when Jem cooks she doesn’t mind having to scrape up a meal as long as it meant not trying her cooking.

Sans, watching could somewhat see what appears to be a head of lettuce poking from Frisk’s lunch box, **the hell, she a fuckin’ rabbit or something?** He shudders at the healthy meal choice, and begins reading up on Joe’s file.

“Oh oh oh!” Joe, being eager while flailing his legs and nudging Frisk with his elbow.

“Yeah Joe?” Frisk looks at him in a disinclined voice.

“THERE!” He yelled, pointing out a lady walking on the sidewalk.

“Oh god-” Aaron started.

“-not again!” as Andrew ended. Both brothers syncing their phrases in near perfect harmony.

“You game?” Joe turned to look at Frisk with a fire in his eyes.

Frisk acceptingly shrugged, “only if you bet your sandwich.”

“Deal!”

“I’ll bet my pickle slice to the winner.” Insisted Aaron.

“alf-effean oppful,” mustered Andrew, holding up said apple.

Meanwhile, Sans scanning the data, found himself to be quite perplexed. Compared to the previous folders that he’s read through, Joe’s appeared to be vague. The previous files entailed contact information along with a brief description, medical history, previous jobs and current jobs. However, as when Sans was flipping through the documents, Joe’s file felt like he was reading a police report. The information segment was poorly filled out, incomplete segments and not even his full name was documented.

Name: JOE

Permanent Home Address: South Division

Previous Home Address: left blank

Age of Employment: 16

Date of Birth: 1900

Place of Birth: left blank

Race

White: Yes   Black:   Oriental:   Indian:

Citizenship

Native Born: Yes    Other:

Heritage

Left blank

Present occupation: Welder/Peacekeeper?

Other employment: left blank

Nearest Relative: left blank

Emergency contact: Anyone at _Mark’s Place_ (then the number to the establishment.)

Brief Description: 5’6”, light brown hair, alcoholic, WOMANIZING (rest seemed to be written in a different hand writing) likes women around 5’4” or smaller, long hair and has a nice ass.

 

He flips to the only page that was filled out other than the information segment, which was something the other files didn’t have, an incidents report.

 

Winter 1916- Personnel and new hire monster conflict, Guzy and ~~Froget~~ Froggit dispute on site. Spara and Joe separated the two parties, Guzy reveals firearm and ~~kills~~ defends himself from Froggit. Spara counters Guzy, resulting an attack. Joe separates the two parties. Spara’s emergency contact was called.

 

Then the list goes on with incidents from 1918 to 1923, then more following in greater detail in 1925 to 1927. It appears no recent incidents were recorded for this year. He noticed that almost all incidents had at least something to do with either monsters, Frisk or a combination of the two.

He looks up and spots Joe strutting out towards the site’s entrance. Sans leans forward to see Joe trying to cross paths with a lady by the entrance. Joe interacts with the woman, they exchange a few sentences and the woman’s expression changes to a polite smile to disgust, then slaps Joe in the face. Movement catches Sans by the corner of his eye and it was the remaining 3 laughing up on the girders. Joe with a new mark on his face, strolls right on back to his companions. **Yep, womanizing that’s for sure…** Sans thought as he leaned back in his chair.

“Told you. You have just as bad a luck with women as Frizz does with his lady.” Aaron commented.

“So how long did that last?” Joe asked, looking up at his friends from the ground. Smiling while rubbing his cheek.

“That conversation lasted two minutes.” Stated Frisk.

“Which leaves Frisk the winner with his guess being a minute and 59 seconds. WO!” Aaron said grabbing Frisk wrist and raising it up high, Frisk extending her other arm up, Andrew making hooting and cheering sounds.

Joe manages to climb back up to take his seat next to Frisk, she handing him his box. “Okay a deals a deal.” He digs through his box and hands Frisk the sandwich.

Frisk responds with handing him a small vine of cherry tomatoes. “For your effort, you can have them. I hate tomatoes.”

“Then, why grab them?”

“Cause I grew them and I have nothing else to eat at home.”

Joe looks at his box, sulking at what he has to eat now that his only sustenance that was going to last him was betted away. Frisk looking at her pitiful friend, tears the sandwich in two and gives one half to Joe.

“Com’on Joe, you know I’m not THAT heartless.” Frisk said, letting out an amused smile.

“You’re the best friend a guy could ever have!” he exclaimed wrapping an arm around Frisk.

Sans attentive to watching the display of what he thinks Joe perceives their relationship as brotherly love. He watches as he spots Frisk pushing the big man away and putting on a stern face as she appears to be yelling at him. The exchange of words continues with the 4 men for some time. Then, he catches a glimpse of Frisk motioning towards her arm, the men all leaned in with curious faces as she rolls up her sleeve and displays her arm up for the men to see.

Sans recollects to the previous night, just after Frisk left to get herself cleaned up. Sans was making his way back to Gerson and Undyne on the loft. Gerson with a concerned look on his face as he mentions to Sans of how him and Frisk’s encounter ended.

“The poor boy, he smashed up his arm trying to break my fall last night. Sans, go check on him and see if he’s okay…”

And there it was, her arm black and blue from where he was standing. The burse covering her entire elbow and disappearing into her sleeve. The men showed their reaction to the gruesome sight by hissing and flinching back. Sans could see it on their faces that it’d hurt. Then he thinks back to their first encounter in the dressing room’s bathroom. She yanked him in there with that same arm and didn’t even make a sound while doing it. **She pulled me in with that beat up arm… Just so I don’t tell.** He could feel a slight ping of guilt in his chest. He didn’t physically do it but figuratively, twisted her arm so she had no choice but to do as Sans requested of her.

**But this is what she wanted, she wants to be treated like a man. She wants everyone to see her as a man.** A voice of reason echoed in his head. **She twisted her own arm cause she couldn’t mind her own business.** With that, he started to get irritated, completely glossing over the feelings of guilt entirely. Thinking that his intuition is right. Trying to justify that he wasn’t in the wrong, convincing himself like before, everything could have been avoided. Or in this case, making himself believe that he at least tried to talk to her. He offered up his curiosity, someone she could trust since he knows about her little secret. Granted he was light hearted on the situation, but regardless she didn’t even give him a chance. Instead of taking the opportunity to confide in someone, she rather just pretend that nothing ever happened. Someone besides her knows that she’s a woman, not only that but a stubborn idiotic woman who doesn’t know when to stop poking her nose in other people’s business, the same woman who just plainly told him to mind his own business. Finally leaving to the conclusion that, **she had it coming.** Then his mind recalls to what she said to him earlier.

_“I have no means in trusting you.”_ The words resonated in his head, blunt and stern, just as she said it.

“Heh… and whose fault is that?” he mockingly said with a bit of strain under his breath.

 

* * *

As work day was nearing its end, the men starting their work at 5:45am to end at 3pm. The grounds men begin their cleaning duties as the rest of the construction workers head to the hoses located at the side of the mobile office. Men taking off their shirts to rinse their faces and wash their hands. As for Frisk, she’s inside the mobile clearing dirt away from her face in the kitchen sink. Sans seated in the chair by the window, hadn’t moved from his spot, staring out. Waiting for the men he hired to be done so he could talk to them about the job that he has for them. During the entire time, Sans not even once saying anything to Frisk.

Frisk recalls when she came into the mobile, telling Joe that she was tried and was going to take a nap in the break room. Which was true, she was exhausted, she managed to keep her body moving despite her brain not working at full capacity for the entire work day. Then when she opened the office door, the place was eerily quiet. The only sound resonating in all the silence was the sound of the clock ticking away. She felt her heart jump the moment she saw Sans sitting there by the open window next to the door.

“S-sorry,” she said out of reflex, then brush past him immediately heading towards the kitchen. She could feel the tense air getting to her, then slightly letting up the further she got away from him. Even though he was turned away, she could feel the piercing glares all around her. She wasn’t even sure if the glares were aimed at her, but she fights off the feeling so she could wash her face.

Once she could feel her skin passed all the dirt and grime, she pulls out a rag out of her pocket and wipes her face. She buries her face in the rag and once she looks back up facing the lounge and entryway the monster was gone. She looks around and walks over to Sal’s office, he was nowhere to be found. Then she spots movement through the window and to her surprise, Sans was out there with Sal calling people over.

She rubbed her eyes, swearing that she didn’t hear a sound. Not a door opening. Not a door closing. She shakes the uncertainty away, blaming her lack of focus or hearing on exhaustion. Though, one thing she is for certain, even though Sans was gone, the aura still lingered. The tense air and the piercing stares. **Something must of pissed the guy off…** she thought.

She makes her way back to the door, thinking of joining the men so she wouldn’t miss anything. She then finds her head turning towards the couch, as if her body was working separate from her mind. Her hand finally at the door, while her eyes are locked onto the couch cushions.

 

* * *

Sans sends himself outside, he didn’t bother to look at Frisk when he left and meets with Sal, who turned just in time to feel his heart jump to his throat at the sudden sight of Sans behind him. He pats the skeleton on the shoulder, after catching his breath and calls the Eastern Division workers over. Sans informs the men of the job, of the time and place and to formally introduce himself to the men personally.

Handshake after handshake, introduction after introduction, mentally putting a face to the files he’s read. Even during his time in the mobile, he was able to get to all the monsters that were set up in the roster, every black folder except one. The line of people grew smaller and smaller, with every introduction gave the men the “okay” to leave and to start planning on preparations for the new work order and head home. Finally ending the introductions with Joe who placed himself all the way in the back of the line.

Joe finally steps up with his hat at his side and his hand extended, “Joe, look forward to working with you, granted I hear I’m just a tagalong,” he continued. “Though, I do hope to be of some use to you other than that.” He finally ended with a smile.

Sal standing next to Sans speaks, “make sure everything goes smoothly ya’hear.”

“You got quite of rep sheet,” Sans recounted to his file, grabbing his hand and giving it a good shake.

He smiles nervously, “Heh… I’d say it breaks even.” He laughs while scratching the back of his head. “I think if I can recall, you were at _Charger’s_ , maybe we can get a couple of drinks,” he continued. “Heard you saved my little buddy there last night.”

“Oh so he told you?” his voice lighting up, almost a feeling of flattery. A small inkling to him that maybe she felt grateful enough to tell someone that he helped her in a tight spot.

“Who? Frizz?” he asked assumingly. “Nahhh!” He waved his hand to deter that assumption. “Charger told me. Frizz be the type that if nobody saw then he doesn’t say. Although, he wouldn’t say if you asked either, but he’d tell eventually,” he shrugged, hating to be so brutally honest.

Sans snorted, now irked that he even thought of the idea that she’d show gratitude at all.

“Speaking of Spara, where is he?” asked Sal.

“Told me he was gonna take a nap in the break room,” Joe replied. “If you want I can take the fella home.”

“Nah, leave him. I don’t mind letting him get some shut eye. ‘Sides, I still have some office duties that I need to catch up on before closing the site,” Sal said, trying not to sound eager.

“I’ll stay as well, he’ll need to be briefed on the job,” Sans insisted, not catching the tone change. “Also I’m gonna need to borrow your telephone, got to tell my benefactor of the status on my end here.” He said shoving his hands in his pockets.

Sal hesitant, nodded in acceptance. Sans makes his way back towards the office. As he enters the place was dark, he eyeballs towards the couches and there enough was Frisk, passed out. He thinking the strange wheezing noise coming from her as she breathed out sounded unwomanly. As for Frisk, curled up, facing the back support of the couch, her legs bent and her feet elevated on the couch arms.

He briskly walks towards the office and grabs the telephone to phone the Don. It ends up being Undyne the one who picked up the other end of the line. Informing Sans that Gerson is making up the arrangements on his end and that she’ll be the one that Sans will need to report to… again. The phone call only took 3 minutes at most, he hangs up, figuring that all he had to do now was wait for his informant to wake up.

Sal eventually enters the building noticing Frisk sitting up on the couch. The amount of sleep she mustered within the time it took Sans to meet everyone was hardly enough to improve the appearance of the dark circles under her eyes. The dark circles that were more predominate in her features now that her face is cleared up, and her eyes could still only manage to open halfway.

“Take it easy, Spara,” Sal stated, motioning his hand up. “Take your time if you need to sleep more, I don’t mind.”

Sans turns to Sal, hearing that Frisk was already up. He hears stirring from the room she is in. “Nah, I still have things to do today,” she stated making groaning noises. Her body making popping and snapping sounds as she stretches her arms and back. She strolls towards the office where she glances at Sans, they lock stares for a moment and she continues towards the door labeled _LOCKERS_.

“Okay, but when you get out we need to finish our conversation,” demanded Sal, watching as Frisk waves a hand up as it registered and enters through the door. And Sal making his way to sit down at his desk.

Sans sighing at the thought that he’ll be stuck with her until he can get the permits. Rethinking of scheduling a monster meeting later so they can finally get the information they need from her. Though as if she can really be in the condition to sit through it. He looks at Sal as he takes a seat, “Maybe you can help me,” he stated. “How well do you know of the monster restriction zones of this city?” he asked, leaning against the chair.

“Heh… I honestly don’t know. My work orders comes from the city, but they don’t tell me nothin’, Spara’s usually the one to let me know when to start getting’ permits. You’re better off getting’ that info from him.” he responded, placing his hands on the desk.

“Ahh figures,” he raise his hands behind his head and rests them there. “If your boy had a hit list I’m pretty sure I’m on top.” He jokingly stated.

“HAH! Get in line buddy, cause I’ve been on top of that list way before ya monsters ever set foot in this city!” He thumbed to himself gloatingly. “Granted, hearin’ how he called ya by your last name, you’d be considered a close 2nd,” he grinned. “But I wouldn’t take it to heart, I mean he is still working for me, if that means anything ta you,” he leans up, glancing at the door, his finger tapping.

Sal almost motioning to raise his voice, the door finally opens. Frisk walks out in a similar attire to his job at the bar minus the vest. Long sleeved button up shirt, black trousers, black oxfords and finishing the ensemble with her bag strapped across her torso. No longer wearing her paddy hat showing her messy hair, her face not completely cleared of dirt as dried up mud showed on her neck and corners of her face.

She took her time to march right back to the place of how her day almost started, seated next to Sans and looking up at Sal. Sal looks at her tapping his finger, obviously his patience wearing increasingly thin, “ya good?” he finally asked.

“Ready whenever you are…” she retorted. She then glances over at Sans and points to him, “you okay with him hearin’ this?” she asked with unease in her tone. Not sure if it’s appropriate to have someone listen in on something that doesn’t have to do with them.

Sans looking a bit lost as to the turn of subject, but stays quiet. Curious as to what will unfold.

“At this point I don’t care anymore, now tell me why Jules is at me ma’s,” finally his patience getting the better of him, “why didn’t she say anythin’ ta me?” His voice all containing the strains of pleading and demanding of answers.

Her eyes wander back to Sans as he was just sitting there. Feeling a bit uncomfortable she returns her attention back to Sal. “To look after your grandchild,” she uttered. “She fled to the coun-“

“Grandchild? What ‘grandchild’?” he growled. “Jules was studyin’, goin’ ta school at the university. She doesn’t even have a boyfriend. Are you certain that the person yer talkin’ about is my Jules?” His anger slowly rising.

Frisk motions to her bag and hands Sal a winkled photograph of a smiling girl, appearing to be in her early 20’s. “This is the picture you gave me to find Julia…” She reaches back in her bag and sides out a crisp photograph of the same girl, though her appearance being a bit older, smiling and holding a baby in her lap.

Sal balls his hands into fits, his breathing hard and gritting his teeth, “No… not my Jules…” He looks up at Frisk, glaring, wanting her to confirm it, the question asked through his eyes. She glances up, her brows forward, then her eyes sullen and looks away. Looking away to confirm whatever suspicion in his mind was true. His anger dissolving into shocked disbelief. He leaned his head into his hand looking back down at the pictures. Trying to wrap his head around the hundreds of questions flooding his mind. Then slamming his fist on the table out of frustration.

Frisk doesn’t wonder what might be going through her boss’s head, she figures he’s already sorted out the conclusion. Thinking back, Sal only mentioned it to her two months prior. Julia, Sal’s daughter, never stopped by to visit when spring break began at her University in North Division. Thinking that she probably wanted to have fun with friends before returning to her home in Central. However, two weeks passed and not even a telephone call, he still had his doubts. Then, he received a call from the university claiming that Julia never attended class a month after the break was over.

Then, he made it clear to Frisk, “find Julia”. After losing his wife to Scarlet Fever a few years back, he couldn’t dare think that maybe Julia somehow contracted it and is lying dead somewhere in the streets. Though, Sal would know that wouldn’t be possible. Reminiscing to his house where his wife stayed locked up in their home, a yellow flag blowing in the wind. Not even he could go and see his own wife’s suffering, never able to say goodbye in risk that he might end up catching it or worse, giving it to his daughter.

Frisk remembered only meeting his wife a few times, though she’s never seen their daughter. Claiming that they were both proud parents of a university student, his wife leaving the impression of a good stay-at-home house wife. Cooking for the construction workers every time she’d visit. Then the early symptoms begun, none of the men could have ever thought the minor changes in her would ever resulted the way it did. At first, it would be random moments where the guys would call out to her in the kitchen and she wouldn’t answer. Thinking her lack of response as her not hearing them, thinking that it was probably due to the loud noise from the site. However, her condition worsened and poor Sal saw it all. Her foundation breaking underneath her as the fever took hold causing her to go deaf, blind and not long after paralyzed. Eventually, it ended with her losing that fight and leaving Sal and Julia all alone.

 As for Julia, it was much worse in her case. The reigning mafia family at the time, left an untreatable wound. Scaring deep into the cracks and crevasses of every street corner and sidewalk. Everyone who lived in Mercy City knew how the family worked, even though the mafia gone, the practice made itself still viable and living. The city made a living in the tabloids, stories of missing children, all linked up by the same cause. Children being taken from their homes to be sold into black markets. Into slavery. Into labor. Into weapons. Or worse… Just thinking about the last option made Frisk’s stomach churn.

What all that had to do with Julia, was beyond sickening. Eventually, the police put a handle on the kidnappings, despite the still missing children out there. So like any germ or bug or scum of the earth, the lowlife thugs evolved. They took it upon themselves to produce their own children to sell. Following young girls after work or school, and taking them for their own sick pleasures and reaping the rewards.

9 months to have a baby, and 2 years to keep that baby hidden. The times overlapped, she was already a mother when her own mother died. All those times, she was going to school and all the while staying in the dorms to take care of her baby. For 2 years she’s been hiding that fact from her parents, now parent. Then the reason for the sudden disappearance was the monster that raped Julia came back to take the baby. For whatever reason, women who’ve become victims of this child selling organization, end up falling in love with the baby or hating it altogether.

Frisk assumed that Julia made a bond with the baby, both trapped in the world that lady luck has shuffled them into. Once Julia was contacted she was given orders on how to “prepare” the child. Though once the thug left, she took it upon herself to flee, flee as far away as humanly possible. Not telling a soul. Frisk didn’t end up finding Julia, in fact it turned out that Julia found Frisk.  When she heard of Frisk’s mission to find her, she made it a mission herself to intercept. She did it all in fear, that Frisk might lead Julia’s monster rapist to her, to her child. And Frisk couldn’t blame her, so the most harmless thing Frisk could do, without selling out Julia’s location, was at least tell her father.

Frisk glances up to her boss’s face, she didn’t have to tell him anymore.

Sal, his eyes darting back and forth, looking at the two pictures, the lines drawing clear as day. Him never thinking that his little girl would ever fall victim. Thinking that North Division of all places would leave his girl untouchable, but it only made him think that there’s no safe place at all for any girl.

“Did she tell you a name?” Sal mustered through his gritting teeth.

“Elise… the little one’s name is Elise.” She said, assuming he was asking for the name of the child.

**Another girl… To think maybe the kid might have a better chance than her mom or grandma.** He finally thought closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“And the bastard?” he added, glaring up at Frisk. Though she knew it wasn’t aimed at her.

“I don’t know, she contacted me before I could figure that out…”

As for Sans, he could only watch, completely lost as to the implications as to the employer and employee conversation. Unable to know what could be racing through either party’s minds, thinking, **so this is what she does, huh?** He glances over at Frisk, her eyes veered down, Sans attention finally looking back up to Sal once he sees her initiating the movement to look up.

Sal still, finally manages to wave his hand, shooing the both of them. “Go, I got all that I need…” he said, defeated, his eyes low and dark by the overcast of his hand rested on his forehead over his eyes. Frisk stands up and takes her leave, Sans closely fallows, both leaving the pictures with Sal. Before she left the room completely, before the room transitioned from the office to the entryway, Sal utters one last thing, “thank you, Frizz.”

She manages to turn to face him, taking a moment to figure out how to respond, “no problem… Salvador.”

“Heh…” his head perked and manages to let out an amused smile “Does that mean you’re not mad at me anymore?”

“Maybe… I wouldn’t think on it much... Who knows, I just might end up calling you what I always called you, tomorrow.” She looked at him straight faced.

“Heh… Salvador… That’s the closest you’ve ever came to callin’ me by my name.”

“Salvador IS your name,” she finished and walks out completely.

Frisk takes point in walking out the door, holding it out for Sans. Sans, who was looking back at the lonely human. Sal sat there, fixed on nothing else but the pictures and his grief. Sans manages to tip his hat and walks out the door, joining Frisk.

 

* * *

Sans closes the door behind him, he looks up and spots Frisk already leaving the site without him. She manages to get past the gate and there was Sans, on the other side of the fence waiting for her. She jumps at the mere sight at him as he stood there in front of her.

“For fucking Christ’s sake…” she swore under her breath, placing her hand over her chest at the sensation of her heart almost leaping out.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked leaning against the fence, arms crossed.

Bewildered, she looks back at the mobile and back at him. “How’d you do that?” she asked a hint of frantic in her voice, still wanting to look back.

“Do what?” he smiled, acting coy.

Her brows forward, feeling not in the mood to play his games. “Fuck off…” she bellowed, bushing against him and continues walking away from the site. “I’m doing what I said I would.”

He observed her leaving without him, his smile forming a line. He continues to follow her, but remained silent. Frisk completely aware that he’s following her, trying to focus on the laundry list of things that she wants to get accomplished before her body finally goes out on her. **Get the jerk’s permits, get info to officer, call doc, sleep.** The list echoing in her mind, repeating over and over again.

Continuing on their walk through Central, Sans takes in the sites and notices an impressive amount of undeveloped areas. A lot of streets with a few empty spaces between buildings. Dirt paths and incomplete alleyways meshed between a tall building and a fenced off site, with an overgrowth of weeds sticking out from the property lines.

Finally, after 2 blocks the chant gets broken by the skeleton monster. “So you also go looking for missing people on your spare time?” he asked, looking at her from behind. Feeling confident in hopes of getting her to talk. Positioning his head to see if she’s paying attention. Her expression changes from zoned to irritated, irritated that her somewhat moment of silence was ruined. “And you do it for free?” he added, “not a very sound business practice to me.” He teased, smiling.

She immediately stops and turns her head towards him, “Ya’know you don’t have to follow me. I’ll get your permits and you can pick them up from me tomorrow.” she insisted, her half-lidded eyes staring at him. Difficult to tell if she’s glaring or just staring.

“Aww, but then what will I do? My job is not done until I get those permits, so face it you’re stuck with me until I get ‘em.” He shrugged, bearing a smug grin.

She turns back, facing forward, feeling the uneasiness of her chest tightening. Thinking that even if he got them, he’ll still want something from her, never leaving her a chance to be alone. Still wanting to risk the possibility that if she’d asked, despite knowing the answer or the outcome, still wants to ask for the chance that it might not yield the result she thinks it will. “When you have your permits, you’ll leave me alone right?” Her heart rate increasing, wanting to add an extra measure of security by telling him to give her his honest answer. However, she’s already said much passed her comfort level by asking him that first question, immediately regretting having said anything to him at all.

“Can’t say that I will once I have them.” He stated. “Though, it’s kinda unfair that I get to answer your questions and you don’t answer any of mine.” He looks away, trying to get her to take a hint.

“You answered only ONE of my questions.” She snaps back, then returns to heading towards her destination. “And I did answer one of yours so that breaks even.”

Unappreciative of the tone of her voice, Sans reaches out and grabs her messed up arm and pulls her aside in a dirt path alleyway. His hand completely engulfing her arm as he forces her against a chain-link fence enclosing an empty site. “Listen. I don’t like this any more than you do.” He declared, gripping her arm. Her wincing in pain, trying to ease her body to loosen his grip. “But I’m not the one who fucked up now, am I? You asked for this, if you want out you gotta earn it, understand?” He demanded, shaking her to get her to look at him in the face.

She grits her teeth trying to fight off the pain and nods. He releases her arm, throwing her against the fence, with him walking away straightening his suit. She takes a moment to breathe a sigh of relief, as she looks at him with both a terrified and angry face. Terrified of the uncertainty of keeping his end of the bargain and angry that she has to accept that uncertainty. Tired of how the past 3 days, nothing have been going her way, tired enough to just accept that she can’t run away. Not this time, if she’d have to fight, she’ll have to fight where she’ll need to keep her enemy close. Thinking eventually, she’ll find something about him and use that against him.

She pushes herself off the fence and returns back on track to their destination, with her taking point. Contemplating that she will have to talk to him, feeding his curiosity all the while avoiding all subjects about her choice or her reason of being a man.

Though, it was easier said than done, with him following close beside her, it felt awkward. Him walking beside her just trailing a couple feet behind and her leading him. Frisk thinking that it was already too late to answer the questions he asked blocks ago. Trying to see how to ignite a conversation, though it didn’t take long for his curiosity to peak again. And he asked his question.

After waiting for her to get up, to finally let his words sink into her, Sans is starting to losing patience. Thinking that it’d just be better to send them both to where ever the hell she’s going to get the permits and finally let the day end there. However, it seems like everything she does is just making things worse for the both of them, prolonging the unnecessary amount of time they need to spend together. He watches as she takes her position of point, holding her sore arm. He looks away, starting to get tired of looking at her, since he’s already had eyeful earlier today.

Eventually he starts thinking of the day and a half that he’s known her and of her work schedule. The only thing he’s learned about her is that she’s a workaholic. What idiot schedules themselves to work a construction job immediately after a graveyard shift? Her, of course. Then not only that, but going onto the next task. Sans trying to work out the timeline in his head the amount of laydown she has between jobs to even fit finding her boss’s girl. Even putting to account that he has no idea how long that must of took her to finish the job or when she even started the job. On top of that, still being in the right or fucked up mindset to be crazy enough to help out monsters from the constant harassment. Making himself irritated, knowing that he grabbed her fucked up arm all so he could make a point. He didn’t even asked her to get him the paperwork that he needed, she just automatically set herself up for disaster, volunteering herself with that assignment. Then the words start trailing out of his mouth in the momentum of his frustration, unknown if he either meant to say it or not.

“Is doing all of this worth it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention I also put a lot of cliffhangers? No? Oh well... Here's your warning.


	4. The Task at Hand and the Undertaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their task at hand...  
> Their tasks being fulfilled...
> 
> New monsters...  
> New enemies...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More dialogue than the last chapter... I think and a few new characters. Yay!

Wednesday- 2:30pm, in what appears to be a dimly lit enclosed room, movement could be traced by the outline of figures weaving in and out. Three thugs carrying boxes as two others stuffing empty crates, placing filled crates against a large metal roller door.

“Okay, so meetin’s at the port, buyer is willin’ ta pay big for this.” One thug said, stuffing big burlap sacks into a crate.

“Heh… the buyer’s a moron. These things are easy to get. Spending ‘big money’ on shit he can git himself,” another commented. Then received a smack upside the head from the one thug.

“Don’t fuckin’ jinx this! Other than buyin’ this shit. He’s also paying extra as hush money,” he growled, gritting his teeth.

Rushing for time, the men accomplished their task and made an impressive stack of boxes ready to be moved out. Three of the men exit through a small door leading to a front counter of a small convenient store, while the other two stayed behind looking after the crates. As for the three that are already at the counter, they set themselves around the store. The two men tasking themselves to appear busy with one of the three sitting behind the counter. The front door swings open and chimes the bell, grabbing the now smiling faces of the men as they greeted their customer.

A small figure manages to waddle their way in, wearing a white fedora, short-sleeved button up shirt and cane. His shell massive in comparison to his body, yes it seems to be Gerson, the tortoise monster. Accompanying him appears to be two strange jiggling mounds of mold.

“Welcome, good customer. To _Monster Stop & Shop_, the best place for your monster goods in all of West Division,” the behind the counter thug declared pleasantly. Eyeing the other two men who returned his gaze back with approval.

Gerson continues to waddle his way deeper into the quant store as his company jiggle and slide across the floor. “My compatriots and I are looking for some goods not found anywhere else other than our hometown. I heard word that this place might have what I’m looking for.” He smiled.

“Oh then be my guest, have a look around,” he spread his arms wide. “We have tons of stuff!”

 

Meanwhile, in the back room of the building. Accompanying the stacked boxes, the two men that stayed behind are having a little game of cards, using empty soap boxes and a propped up 2x4 as makeshift table and chairs. Appearing to be waiting out the boring task of lookout duty. Not long for their game to end when they hear a knock on the metal roller door.

“Oh! Edger must be here with the truck,” he takes a look at his wrist watch. “The fucker’s early though.” He exclaimed with an irritated voice. He marches over and rolls up the door. “Hey Ed, you’re here too earl-” he looks up, a figure standing before him so tall and slender. The mere sight of how the body towered over him made himself cut off what he was going to say.

The figure stands in front of the harsh daylight, causing a massive overcast inside the room. The tall character in question only took one step and was through the threshold, inside the room with the two men. Holding what appears to be a club, no a long bone spread across his shoulders. Both of his hands holding each side as the long of the bone is pressed against the base of his neck… spinal cord. Yes, standing before them was a body made of bone, a skeleton. A skeleton monster to be correct and a nicely dressed one to boot. From head, skull to toe, wearing a black suit with a white button up shirt, orange tie and topping the ensemble is a black fedora with an orange band across it. The tall monster smiles at the sight of the two mean and lets out a subtle “NYEH HEH HEH”.

The thug staggers back, “W-w-what the hell?! You’re not Edger!”

The monster eyes the thug in front of him specifically, “NO… BUT PREPARE TO BE AMAZED,” the permanent smile widens and the light that were his eyes narrow.

* * *

 

Gerson shakes his head, he walked in every inch of the store with a much disappointed look on his face. “No, no… It looks like you don’t have what we’re looking for,” he turns towards the door, looking back at the man behind the counter. “Guess we’ll just have to look elsewhere.” His attention turns back and spots the other two men drawing down the shades and locking the front door.

“Heh don’t mind them, sir,” the man said gently. “They’re just closing the blinds since the suns a little too bright for me. Though, as for what you’re looking for…” he motions his hands towards the back door. “If you’d come with me, I might have what you need in the back.”

Then, without warning, an agitated yell echoes from the backroom. The man behind the counter dawns a look of confusion, motioning towards the sound’s origin. A body flies out the doorway, soon after another falling right on top. The thug stands in utter shock, completely perplexed at the sight of the two bodies. Both covered in blood, the back of their heads caved in, and faces frozen with the look of complete terror. The color in their eyes bare white and their bodies limp. The man darts towards the back doorway opening and froze looking in.

Gerson shakes his head and grits his teeth. He turns back and at that same moment the skeleton enters through the same door that the bodies came out from. Having to bend ever so slightly as to not hit his head. The bone club that he entered with, bloodied and appears that some chunks of flesh and brain matter are embedded in the small notches of one end of the club. The skeleton’s brows both raise at the sight of Gerson, not taking in the account that they’re not alone. The three men all frozen in their places, eventually shaking away their wreaked nerves and all reach around their hips.

“Sigh… Papyrus, Papyrus, Papyrus… We really need to work on your finesse,” the old monster uttered. Just after him uttering that one sentence and before the thugs could draw out their hidden weapons a few blurs of white darts out and the room engulfs in black.

 

Moments after, monsters are moving in and out of the convince store, carrying out supplies and furniture. Gerson, the two wiggling mounds of mold and the skeleton Papyrus are in the back room with the stack of crates. As for the thugs, the two that are bloodied laid on the floor and the remaining three laid right on top. The three have no signs of trauma or blood on them, but the expressions their faces hold are the same as the first two. Then there were the eyes, the three men had no sign of any irises or pupils. Altogether, the pile of humans were left in a solitary corner of the room, completely motionless.

Gerson and Papyrus surveys a truck backing in towards the big opening, closing in on the stack of crates. The driver gets out and it’s the bear that accompanied Gerson and co. the night previous. Fetching a crowbar in the bed of the truck, he goes and attempts to pry open one of the crates.

“Once you get them out of those boxes I want you to stuff those flesh bags in there, after that burn it.” Gerson managed through the grit of his teeth. Watching the bear as he successfully opens the crate and dumps out the contents. “To think that this was happening under our own noses.”

“THERE WAS NO WAY THAT WE COULD HAVE KNOWN, DON G,” the skeleton said with a serious tone in his voice. He pulled his hat down, the rim over his eye sockets. “THOUGH, IT COULDN’T BE HELPED SINCE ALL THIS TIME WE’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR THAT HUMAN INFORMANT,” he stated bluntly.

“Okay-okay. I don’t need you ta rub it in…” he muttered. Then the old monster taps the tall monster on the shin with his cane, “hat’s off, my boy. They may be no longer with us, but we still must show ‘em respect…”

After the bear managed to open what they all thought was crammed caskets, they both took a moment of silence.

Then using the hook of his cane, the turtle laches it on the crook of Papyrus’s arm and pulls him down to bend to his level. “Be sure you remember what you learned today,” he said sternly, looking the skeleton in the lights embedded in the large sockets. “You’re acting Don now, so you’ll need to start ACTIN’ like it. As for now, you did good.” He pats the tall monster on the shoulder.

Delighted by the small praise, Papyrus grinned, “DO NOT FRET DONNY G. FOR I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL AMAZE YOU THE NEXT TIME!”

“Okay settle boy, the door’s wide open. Don’t want to unsettle anyone who might have open windows.”

“HA! WHEN I’M NO LONGER ACTIN’ DON AND BECOME THE REAL DEAL, EVERYONE SHALL HEAR MY VOICE AND COWER OVER MY GREATNESS,” he proclaimed.

Gerson letting out an amusingly exhausted sigh, “Ya’know you sure don’t know when to let up. Once I hear from Sans about how things are goin’ on his end, how’s about you two take a load off?”

Papyrus gasps, wide eyed and giddy, “YOU MEAN?”

The tortoise taken aback from the sudden mood swing, but continues to clarify Papyrus’ suspicions. “Umm yes, you can go back to your brother’s apartment and enjoy a little family reunion.”

Papyrus pumps his arms, clenching his fists, wearing a huge grin on his face and releases a swift “YES!” Showcasing his excitement. He quickly realized his position and immediately collected himself in a poised upright demeanor. His hands behind his back, a brief cough into his balled fist, “AHEM… I BEG YOUR PARDON, DON.”

Gerson puffs an abrupt laugh, “I guess, I can’t blame you.” He waved his hand to excuse him, “Go, go on now. I’m pretty sure he’ll love the surprise that you must have for him when he gets home.” The geezer chuckled. Knowing he could handle the current situation without him, and lets the skeleton off the hook for the day. “Oh, but if there is any meetin’ of the sort, I’d expect you to be there with Undyne. Got it?”

“YES DON-” a wham to the skull, as he mistakenly runs into the low metal roller door while trying to make his exit.  “NYEH HEH HEH…” he rubs his head. “Y-YES DONNY G. YOU CAN COUNT ON THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

Gerson watches Papyrus take his leave, now it leaves only him, the bear and the two mold mounds. He readjust his grip on the cane and turns to head towards the store portion of the building, muttering to himself, “well I better call Undyne, hope Sans has some good news and I hope this place has an easy access telephone.”

 

* * *

Frisk is standing in a communication box talking on a candlestick telephone. The box itself is settled in a big hallway where just next to it is a line of telephones hooked up to the wall with small dividers between each phone. Frisk using the confines of the box as her method to hide any risky info slipping out into wandering ears.  

Going through her mind, trying to remember the list that she’s lost out of the overtime her brain had to go through prior. Mentally checking off her list out of order, she called her doctor. Hoping that the status of her arm that she told him about will yield any good news, and luckily it did. Figuring that her arm is just badly sprained and not broken as she dreaded, he made it clear “if you can’t move it then get rid of it”, which is a common practice and glad that she won’t take part of. Of course with any good news had to accompany with some bad and in her case even worse. Other than scheduling a looksee at the condition of her arm, just for safe measure. Asking the doctor for a refill that is keeping her alive between the now normal panic attacks and the second hand smokers, it proved to be her vexing factor. Not only was he out of refills, but he has to wait for a week for more to come in. **Greaaaat… I might as well drop dead now…** she couldn’t help the thought. Less than what feels like enough for at least or at most 2 doses, 4 puffs. As if work wasn’t hard enough, even though it always had. Though her reliance to it, it’s what has been making life for her bearable. Now with Sans in the picture, she doubts that she’ll survive the week. Contemplating on how she will survive a whole week, hoping when she gets home she’ll dig through all the canisters she hasn’t thrown away. Though that seems that is all she can do for the time being, thinking of hope and how to not lose it.

Other than the lightening devastating news, she also managed to get a request for the permits started. Unfortunately, catching a bit of a snag and having to put her resource gathering skills to use… by calling the cops, which explains the reason for being in the communication box in the first place.

Frisk frequents the Mercy City Police Department, always with a tip or two and gets rewarded with more jobs, info she hadn’t gathered yet, or some incentive either food or money. Being the police department’s eyes and ears, their lookout in the alleyways. Thanks to Frisk’s line of work, she’s contributed to a lot to their cause and in turn helping officers go up in ranks. Namely the officer she’s helped out the most is Captain Lance Havoc, the very same officer that is on the phone with her. Though after he became captain, all the info she brings him, he hands off to other officers. Mostly the ones on thin ice for their lack of effort or abusing their power over the weak. Throwing officers a bone when things get too dicey when the Chief is involved.

Now, Frisk likes Lance, as for the officers that he hands her information to, they’re questionable to say the least.  Frisk remembers one time she tipped Lance in a drug smuggling operation, the police came and they left, not without trying to take some of the drugs as a souvenir. Once they filled their evidence bags full of coke, they started shoving it into their pockets. Frisk was more than happy enough to snitch on the shady members, after all those same coke pocketers are the ones who protects this city’s citizens. Though since the unwavering amount of crime, the city finds it hard to find good cops and all the more reason to keep the sleazy bad ones, and Frisk hates it. Lance had his fill and now that he’s captain, giving the sleazy bastards the taste of the glory is all that he does. The only time he ever leaves HQ is when it involves city council meetings, ongoing investigations and intel meetings with Frisk. As for the bad cops, all that glory that is given to them, it just ends up going to their fat heads. Hardly ever sparking a change in character, acting just as upper crust as the rich people who live in North or North Eastern Division, treating everyone else in the southern divisions as second rate citizens. However, like it or not, Frisk has no choice in the matter. Weather her tips are given to a bad cop, a decent cop or a great cop, it is at least better than no cops in the city at all.

So even though, Lance will be the receiver of the information, it most definitely won’t be him that will accomplish the task that has to do with it.

“Found another baby sell victim, this time it was in North Division,” Frisk exclaimed.

“Fuck. Seriously?” demanded Lance, his voice sounding smooth. “Didn’t think they’d move north.”

“That’s what I thought too.”

“Sigh… alright, I’m going to request the chief to send some guys there. You know where at?”

“She got attacked at her university, but you know they don’t stay in one place.”

“I know, but I gotta start somewhere. Thanks for the info, Frizz,” he continued. “Though, I didn’t think to hear from you today. Need something?”

“Work’s just catching up with me… more like I’m trying to catch up with it,” she said exhaustedly.

“Hmm,” he sounded sympathetically.

“Anyway... I need a boon. A new beginning company needs monster permits in South Eastern harbor.”

“Sigh… okay, but can you vouch for them?”

Hearing that she almost wanted to respond with, **as if I have a choice…** but ending up thinking it. “Yeah, I’m actually going to be working with them on Salvador’s behalf.”

“Salvador? Ya finally made up with the old man?”

“For now.” She said sternly.

“Right, right. Calm down, I’ll call it in and verify it with the notary department. Which window?”

“Thirteen,” she said, bluntly. Almost thinking just how bad her luck is, like the number that everyone seems to associate with when bad luck ensues.

“Oh and Frizz, before you hang up,” he insisted. “I got more on that job that you’ve been doing for us. My buddy seems to have a date and it’s at 7 o’clock, this Friday.”

“Oh great!” her voice picked up, all the while can’t seem to shake off the feeling of dread for tomorrow’s meeting with the monsters. Worried that they might task her in assignments that might conflict with her schedule. Even though, conflicting schedules have already been something she’s known to do on a regular basis. She just hopes that their tasks won’t overwhelm her on the only free time she has between the construction site and the bar. “Don’t worry Lance, I’m on it.”

“Consider yourself lucky, the fucker almost didn’t want to tell. He contemplated on whether to bust it or not. Claimed that he would of left the force just for the amount that he said they’d get awarded with.”

“Greeaaaat…” a distinction of sarcasm in her voice. **And you still decide to keep ‘em…** she thought unsurprised, “Well at least I’ll get to use the camera again.”

“Okay, but Eric’s gonna want it back soon, he’s already complainin’."

“Miles can go chase himself!” she bellowed, grabbing the neck of the phone. “All that fucker does is sit on his ass and eats all day! This camera is wasted on him, I had to pick off the caked in grease out of the button!”

“Ehhh not my call. So, when can you verify the info for me?”

She paused, thinking the skeleton won’t let up on the harassment, and thinking of the skeleton. She recalls the conversation they had earlier before coming. She shakes off the thought, to think on an estimation, “2 weeks, Thursday.”

“Two weeks? Jeez, why the hold up?”

“Sorry, but the que increased during the past 3 days. Though if you want to, sweeten the deal and I’ll jump you back to one.” She said teasingly.

“No. No. I’m fine, thanks. As for the tip for last week, former chief will send you your check in the mail as usual.”

“Thanks, send him my regards,” she finally said, and hangs up.

She exits the box and spots Sans leaned against the wall in a lobby. A line of red painted on the floor dividing the room and a sign hanging overhead. It respectfully reads _HUMANS_ , then an arrow pointed left and _MONSTERS_ , with an arrow pointed to the right. She never thought the notary department would end up becoming her saving grace from the monster that seems to be tormenting her entire day, and soon  she thought, her entire existence. Though she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. She keeps her head low as she walks back to the lobby and straight to the number 13 booth, all the while his gaze fixed on her.

* * *

 

“Is doing all of this worth it?”

The skeleton finally uttered his question. Normally she hears this question a lot from Jem, Joe, Mark and a few others. Even she has been guilty of asking herself this same question. Though excluding herself, it is normally asked in the context that people knew her as a man. To the same question, she always answered with the same response, “if it helps make the city a better place and I get paid for it, then yes.” As for the answer that she gave herself, she never provided one. However, the question uttered came off as vague to her. Trying to decide if it was a right question to ask or a wrong one. Unsure if he’s asking, “is doing all of these jobs worth it?” or “is pretending to be a man to do these jobs worth it?” She honestly didn’t know how to answer, and granted she did detect the tone of hostility in his voice, so there was a possibility that he didn’t mean to ask it. Out of sheer uncertainty, the very feeling she hated, was overwhelming her. Tempted to turn around and see what look he had dawned when asking that question. The immediate thought became reality as she turned to glance back at him.

Not even looking in her general direction, away from this conversation. His eyes leered towards the sky or the tops of the buildings, she wasn’t sure. She finally decided to answer his questions and the first question he asked, he’s not even looking at her. The uncomfortable feeling of the unknown made her think, **this guy’s dangerous.** Dangerous as if he kept asking her ambiguous questions, the more she’ll start wavering in her resolve. She would have to listen and process all of his questions and the ones that she plans to ignore, the reason for being a man or why, will make her question herself. Thinking that she should set some boundaries of what he could ask instead of ignoring what she deemed as “wrong” questions.

However, never the one to lie or give an ambiguous answer, when she decided to become a man, she swore to never lie. Since what she’s doing now is the biggest lie that she’ll have to live with her entire life… till her final breath. She couldn’t live with another lie, as the lie she’s keeping up with now already came with repercussions. Although, she already accepted that the moment she became a man, the moment she came to this city, the moment she burned everything to the ground. When the subtle thoughts of what he’s currently asking could be the one that involved her being a girl, she immediately thought of going with a lie, but just as it was instantly thought up she decline to go that route. Nevertheless, the thought of giving him her honest answer to that question didn’t sit right, and giving him an indefinite one is just as bad. Though when she boils down to it, it’s better than giving nothing at all.

“It wouldn’t of mattered if it did,” she finally stated.

* * *

 

_“It wouldn’t of mattered if it did.”_

He thinks back to her response as they approached a simple two story building. Big bold letters that read, _MERCY CITY NOTERY DEPARTMENT_. Remembering when he asked his question he didn’t wanted to even look at her. Pissed off, knowing for sure in the back of his mind that she wasn’t going to justify his existence with an answer. Or more so that she was just going to give him more lip that will just end up making him lash back. Though, he made his curiosity audible for her to hear and for her to gauge it however she wanted to interpret it, then she answered.

“‘It wouldn’t of mattered?’ The fuck kind of answer is that?” he addressed himself in a hushed tone. His arms crossed and his gaze low. **Of course it fucking matters!** He thought to himself, letting her words echo in his mind and the more he thought about it the more his irritation simmered. **So she’s telling me that she wouldn’t care if she ended up dead face down in the gutter? Working herself to death, is that it?** Then his mind thought back to the moment when he heard her. He glanced back and at that same moment she turned her head forward, only catching a glimpse of her eyes looking so distant. Though he couldn’t tell if it was because of her fatigue, though it appeared she meant every word of it. The look that she didn’t want to talk about it. For once, even pissed off of that poorly thought out response, he could respect her silent wish and left it at that. Though it did end up making the journey to the notary department an awkward one. Not one word said or uttered by either of them. It unnerved her and he could see it as he looked at her, her shoulders slouched, her stride was somewhat dragging and she gripped her beat up arm the whole way.

They both reached the front entrance, Frisk paused to look up at the signs reading humans one way and monsters the other and to stay on one side of a painted line. She veers her direction towards one side and Sans not taking two shits on any of the signs or the painted line, continued to follow Frisk, treading on the very line. Walking through the hallway someone noticed and cuts Sans off. Two security guards placing themselves between Frisk and the skeleton monster. Ordering Sans to walk on the other side, he glances up at Frisk who didn’t know of Sans unwillingness to following what the signs said, she turns around to look back at him. Another thing to add to his already pissed off mood, he steps off the line and brush past the guards, increasing his pace to walk next to Frisk.

Frisk out of instinct took a deep inhale and exhaled through her nose, almost as a deep sigh.

“What?” he said quickly and stern, in an irritated voice.

She kept her eyes veered down, “nothing…” she said in a low voice, she completely forgetting to take deeper breaths. Since the conversation they had prior made her stressed and her breathing shallower.

Eventually they made it to the lobby, she left him to go in line. Sans eyeballing the line decides to step away and call Undyne from a communication box on the monster’s side of the hallway in hopes that some progress was made. Thinking that he should reconsider scheduling a monster meeting just so he doesn’t have to interact with Frisk anymore.

“Undyne, please tell me that Gerson got somethin’ done?”

“Sans? It’s only been an hour since you’ve called. There’s nothing to report on our end,” she stated. “What? Got those permit things that you need already?”

“Almost, kid’s getting’ them for me,” he replied. Placing his hand on his forehead, rubbing his eyes.

“Heh, kid’s givin’ ya a handful?” she teased. “So wait, he has nothing to do after he gets you those permits, right?”

Sans already has a feeling where this was going, he looks out at a small lookout window and spots Frisk waiting in line. “I have no idea…” he told. Thinking, **if she knows what’s good for her, she should call it a day.**

“Okay well find out what he’s doin’ today, the sooner we get that info the better.”

He lets out a defeated sigh, “got it…” and hangs up the phone.

 

* * *

 

“Here,” Frisk offered, handing Sans the papers outside the notary building. “Ya just need ta sign them, and pass them out to the monsters. I didn’t know how many you need so I just asked for a dozen.”

“Heh more than enough, that’s for sure,” he said, accepting the papers.

“Now, if you don’t mind- _YAWN_ \- but I’m going home.” She turns towards the exit and begins her departure.

“Hold on there you,” he places a hand on her shoulder. “What are you doing today?” he looks at her, as she turns to look at him. Her eyes narrowed and her brows forward. The distinct look of “what the hell do you think?” spread across her face. “Well besides getting some shut eye.”

She jerks her shoulder back, “hell if I know… I’ll figure that out after I sleep.”

“So nothing then?” He probed, his brow raised. Turning his head to the side and leaning in to hear her answer.

“Yeah sure- _YAWN_ \- I don’t care,” she declared, losing patience. She turns back around and leaves, finally had enough of today.

“Ah ok, so then you wouldn’t mind to come to the monster meetin’ then?”

Exhausted she didn’t quite care about the last things he had to say to her. She figured she’d wave to let him know she understood. Maybe whatever what was said would register later.

As for Sans, he finally got his signal that his task for now is complete. All he have to do for today is schedule the monster meeting around the time Frisk might be done with her nap. Oh how he is so happy to be done with the day of monster/human interactions. And for the meeting, thinking that he’ll have to provide the lift from her home and back, but other than that she’s the Don’s problem when the meeting comes and he has no problem with that.

 

* * *

The sun is set low, as the sky still blue with a tinge of orange and red smear along the horizon. Frisk finally manages to reach her apartment from all the way from Central, having to ask a ride from one of her coworkers at _Mark’s Place_ when she entered East Division.

4th floor, the last door at the end of the hallway, defiantly relived to be home sweet home. She swings the door open, the front door set immediately by the kitchen, to the right of her the bathroom, just passed the kitchen where the tiles end and the hardwood floors began is the living room, and set in the living room was one bedroom door.

However, Frisk wasn’t planning on entering that door, where her sanctuary resides is at the far back left corner of the living room. A place that couldn’t be seen from the front door cause of the kitchen wall dividing the kitchen and living room. In a space with boundaries marked by a bookshelf and a two door closet wardrobe placed side by side facing inward, a twin size bed fitted in the space. The bed pressed against the wall, with less than a foot wide to walk in, just enough space to access the bed, bookshelf and wardrobe. The walls of the space were bare and there was no window to look out from, the only window that was in the room is the window placed on the other side of the bookshelf and wardrobe boarders. The window doubling as an additional access leading to a fire escape. As for the view, their apartment’s window faces out towards a manmade waterway flowing down towards South Eastern Division. Complementing the view was a draw bridge leaving East Division, however the bridge sections permanently raised up.

Frisk feeling her mind racing, thinking of a new ‘to do list’, her mind ever restless. Though forcing herself to think of sleep as she drags her feet through the kitchen, through the living room, passed the sofas and towards the little corner she made for herself. Too tired to change out of her casual attire and defiantly too tired to care about the dried mud on her face. Not even thinking of taking off her shoes, falls face down right onto the bed. The internal conversation still occurring in her mind as she lets herself go limp and feels herself sinking deeper into the mattress.

_Breathe… Sleep… Breathe…_

**I left without hearing what he had to say… I think he was trying to ask me something…**

_That doesn’t matter now, you’re home and you’re safe… Breathe… Sleep…_

**I need to see if I have more canisters in the wardrobe…**

_You don’t need that now, you can look later. After you sleep…_

**Jem’s not home yet… I have to warn her about that skeleton…** Her mind slowly trailing off, despite how bright the room was, she manages to close her eyes. Her mind still keeping up with the conversation as her body lets go.

_You can tell her about everything that happened today, later… You need to sleep…_

**Sleep…**

_Sleep…_

**Sleep.**

 

* * *

Sans sends himself home at a small two story red brick building a few blocks away from _Charger’s Pub_ in West Division. The building was more of an apartment than an establishment like the other buildings next to it. The main door was up a flight of stairs around the right side of the building. The access to the stairway was placed in a narrow alleyway with a tall gate protecting the access way. He takes a look at his watch and reads that it was 4:30pm, **an hour and thirty minutes too long to be with that stubborn human** , he thought.

Carrying all the paper work given to him by both Sal and Frisk, when he got inside he just tosses the files on the couch next to the door. Feeling a headache coming in, he wants to forget the day he had. He removed his shoes and placed his jacket on the arm of the sofa. Thinking of contacting Undyne after he takes a load off. Then a glimpse of light coming down the hallway and in addition a burning aroma lingered in the air. He only had the apartment for a week and before he moved in, the apartment was a go to place for squatters. Homeless humans in particular trying to stay in a warm place away from the streets. Though it wasn’t Sans’s first time dealing with someone who’s broke into his house, but today of all days. He was stuck with what he thinks is probably the most stubborn human in the world. The homeless people couldn’t compare to her, he would of probably choose the homeless humans over the one, that even thinking about her is making him feel like there’s cracks forming around his skull. However, the sight and sound grabbed his attention thinking, **I’m far beyond the mood to be dealing with more human shenanigans!** He balled his fists and storms into the source of the light, being the kitchen. Unequipped with any weapons, storms the room and prepared for anything. He was already worked up, depending on the situation he thinks this will help him let out some steam or just the opposite, getting him more steamed. Though just even thinking of how he was going to assess the situation or the fact that he had to deal with any sort of problem at all, enraged him.

Once he turned the corner, the anger and rage melted from his face, leaving behind an expression of shock. The sound of the front door closing nor did the sound of him stomping over to the kitchen didn’t seem to catch the perpetrators attention. Sans gazes up, even though he was looking up, his eye sockets looked as though he was looking at something small and precious.

In the kitchen was the tall skeleton that accompanied Gerson earlier that day, Papyrus. There was no question to it, Papyrus went straight home, to Sans’s home. Not only that, Sans also glanced over to the counter where stuffed paper bags are squeezed together, some of the contents scattered around the counter and floor, mostly tomatoes and small blocks of permission cheese. Then he glances at the sink where piles and piles of dirty pots and pans filled it, though he only remembers that he had so little he figure Papyrus went out to get more the entire time that he was there. Then he catches Papyrus talking to himself, getting frustrated as he is stirring a pot that was set on the kitchen stove.

“DAMN IT ALL! THIS WON’T DO!” he lets go of the spoon and the pot and takes a step back, analyzing the dish. “WE HAVENT SEEN EACH OTHER FOR 4 YEARS AND ALL THAT TIME I NEVER PRACTICED! I GOT TO SHOW SANS THAT I GOT BETTER. THIS DISH HAS TO BE PERFECT!” He pumps himself up just to deflate, he had been working on his recipe for two hours and in all that time he never even tried the dish. He scoops up the contents of the pot and plates it, garnishing with a bit of cheese and parsley. Thinking at he should at least sit down and try a bite.

Though as Papyrus turned around, his fingers slip and the plate shatters on the floor, shocked at Sans standing in the doorway. Both forgetting themselves and running to each other’s embrace. Papyrus lifting Sans up in a bear hug and swinging him from side to side. Sans in return, trying to hug his brother back with his arms pinned to the sides by the bear hug and only manages a couple of pats on the small of Papyrus’s back.

“OH HOW THE GREAT PAPYRUS MISSES YOU, DEAR BROTHER!” he declared after the swaying, bending over to set Sans’s feet back on the ground.

Sans laughing as tears form from his eye sockets. “Haha… It’s been too long Pap! Waaaay too long!”

Both brothers almost syncing their movements perfectly as they both release each other, holding onto the other’s forearms taking in the sight. Both wiping any lingering tears and taking turns on how the other looks.

“LOOK AT YOU BROTHER! YOU LOOK THE SAME AS ALWAYS!” Papyrus feeling a tear about to form, rubs his face with his arm trying to keep his face dry.

“And what about you! I see you’re still cooking and I hear you’re actin’ Don now!” Sans bearing a wide grin and smacking his brother on the back. “You’re climbing up in the world ya lil shit!”

“BROTHER, LANGUAGE! YOU JUST SAID I’M ACTING DON! AND NO BODY CURSES OR CALLS NAMES ON THE ACTING DON!” Papyrus standing up straight proud. “AND I’M NOT LITTLE ANYMORE,” He added, emphasizing that tiny little detail.

“Right, right. Don’t go wackin’ me over that,” he joked. “So, anyway you broke into my house…” he leans over at the stove that was left on. “And started cooking?” he added.

“AHH FORGIVE ME BROTHER!” Papyrus rushes back to turn off the burner, grabbing a new plate of somewhat burned spaghetti. He turns back to Sans and sets the plate on the small table against the wall. “I WANTED TO MAKE IT A SURPRISE… BUT I’M A BIT RUSTY,” he said with a disappointed look on his face. “THOUGH GRANTED, I AM YOU’RE BROTHER SO THIS MY HOME TOO,” he added.

Sans takes a seat, thinking nothing of the dish and only happy to see his brother. He waited for Papyrus to take a seat across from him so that they could catch up. Though when Papyrus did managed to sit down, Sans took the fork and without thinking shoved the food straight to his mouth. His face churned, Papyrus leans up against the table waiting and watching for his brother’s response. The taste of the dish as it lingered in Sans’s mouth was… Indescribable, almost brought another tear to his eye socket. The food tasting exactly how he remembered it. Though, not wanting to hurt his brother’s feelings he forced the food down, his body bending over having a difficult time absorbing it. He even banged on the table waiting for the agony to stop and once it did, he looks up tears streaming down his smiling face.

The moment brought them going down memory lane, taking turns remembering this and that. Back then, it was just the two of them, or at least that’s as how far Papyrus remembers. Though, it didn’t stop Papyrus’s curiosity in knowing more of what his brother went through before he was old enough to retain the information. As far as Papyrus could remember, Sans was only 8 at the time and Papyrus 5, it was a tough start. They both lived alone in Snowdin, no parents to look after them and Sans having to take odd jobs to get by. Though they weren’t entirely alone, as Gerson would always send young Undyne to give them home cooked meals and supplies. Even their Don, who wasn’t even their Don at the time visited and told them stories. Though, when Sans finally got old enough and were able to manage his powers he joined the Don’s organization to return the favor and give his little brother a secure life. When Papyrus came to age though, Sans couldn’t help but worry about him. Sans did see it coming and he only had himself to blame. Never wanting Papyrus to ever fall into danger, Sans would rather do it himself and Papyrus saw that. Sans guessed that he rubbed off him, but he never wanted to be the unsupportive type and he reluctantly accepted it. Even though, he had an idea as to why Papyrus wanted to join the Delta mafia, more than just because his brother is in there. As it coincided with Sans’s reason too, to find the person responsible for their abandonment.

 

After hours of going down memory lane, they eventually changed their subject to business. Papyrus was aware of the human dubbed “Monster Lover,” though since he was taking over the duties of their Don, he didn’t have the luxury of exploring the city or contributing to finding the human informant. Now, that he gets a chance to spend time with his brother he feels like he can be himself and gauge the situation without Gerson or Undyne keeping a sharp eye on his actions. Sans gives the best he could to inform his brother of the situation and they both concluded that they do need to get a meeting started that night.

“YES, I’LL NEED TO CONTACT UNDYNE, RIGHT AWAY!” Papyrus gets up and takes off for the telephone. “WHAT TIME IS IT NOW BROTHER? SURELY AFTER ALL THIS CATCHING UP, THAT SHOULD BE PLENTY OF TIME FOR THAT LAZY HUMAN TO GET ENOUGH REST.”

He smiled at his brother’s complaint. Knowing that Frisk wasn’t lazy, though the fact that she irritates Papyrus makes Sans happy to know that his brother is just as annoyed with her as he is, “it’s called sleeping, Papyrus and its 10 minutes to 8.” He said as he followed his brother out to the main entrance.

“THAT’D BE GOOD ENOUGH, YOU GO AND GET THE HUMAN AND I’LL MEET YOU AT… WHAT IS IT AGAIN?”

“Pub. Papyrus, Pub. Like Grillby’s, but with more entertainment.”

“AND GREASE?” He emphasized, glaring at Sans.

“Well it gots to serve something-”

“AND GREASE?” he emphasized again, but more demanding of a response.

“Yes, yes and grease. Jeez…” he responded, wiping the subtle sweat off his skull. “You and that standard of yours.”

“A DON HAS STANDARDS FOR A REASON. I WILL ACCEPT THIS… PUB. BUT AFTERWORDS, I WILL FIND A MUCH MORE SUITABLE MEETING ARRANGEMENT.”

“Sure thing, bro.” Sans shrugged as he turns his attention to the door. Just about to leave only realizing he still hadn’t known where Frisk lived yet, on top of that he still had to fill in the permits.

After taking the permits and black folders, he takes a brief look at Frisk’s address and takes off from there.

 

* * *

She dreamed, dreamed of nothing, of silence, of peace. Sleeping soundly in her small corner of the world. She could possibly sleep forever, dream of a life that was far beyond her reach. A place so sweet and surreal, words couldn’t describe the tranquility of the state of her mind. Thinking as she slept, that she will never forget a dream like this ever. Then, she could feel her body lifting from the realm of sleep, someone calling out to her. She knew it was a dream, but oh how she wished she could stay and how she will fight to stay. Her mind being awaken, brought back to reality. Forgetting the dream as she heard her name.

“Fris… Fris…” the voice calls.

As she fights off the call, wanting to go back. Her mind and her heart aching, **it’s too brief…** her mind fights the waking sensation all the while her mind pulling more and more. Pulling her out of her dreams. The voice becoming clearer.

“Frisky… Frisky… wake up,” the voice said in a hushed tone. Starting to take form, sounding all familiar and way too annoying to Frisk’s ears.

The vivid world she dreamed distorting like pastels being blended together, the last moments of the dream no longer hold meaning. The world turns black as she awakes, staring at the back of her eyelids. The voice she all knew too well… Jem.

Jem places her hand on Frisk’s back, shaking her all the while trying to be gentle and low in pitch, “Frisky, wake up.”

Her face thankfully facing away from Jem, her eyes half open, realizing that she is still in the same position as she was when she fell into bed. Her feet hanging off the edge, her shoes still tied on. She takes note on how quiet Jem is all the while finding it contradicting. “Jem… If you want to wake me then you need to be louder… what you’re doin’ seems counterintuitive…”

“Frisky?” she raises to a loud whisper, “are you awake?”

“No, just sleep talkin’…” she blurted sarcastically. “Yes shit I’m awake.” She declared, irritated.

“Argh… Will you keep it down?” she stated, straightening herself and placing her hands on her hips.

Frisk, still laying down only turns her head to look at Jem. “What do you want? It’s Wednesday, you know the shit I go through on Wednesdays!” She declared, looking up at Jem, “what time is it anyway?”

“Shhhh… Frisky, will you shut up. I’m trying to tell you…” she looks back towards the kitchen, then bends down to Frisk. “There’s this skeleton askin’ for you, outside.”

Frisk’s eyes shot wide open, the immediate dread causing her heart to sink. She wriggles her way up, she feels an immediate pain in her chest from sleeping face down for god knows how long. Though she quickly ignores it, thinking what in the world does she owe him now?

 **No way. Why? How? This got to be some joke.** She thought to herself, trying to run every course through her head. Recalling their last conversation, trying to jog her memory as to what else he could have said to her. The harder she though, the more the memory gets disoriented like her dream. Trying to piece together by guessing or what she thought what happened. All the more wondering how he found out where she lived. She straightens herself and marches towards the kitchen, her heart racing and her chest tightening. Telling herself to calm down.

 **Jesus fuckin’ Christ! I need to calm down. Maybe it’s nothing. He forgot something…** then her mind considers one other option, **or he’s here to harass me again…**

She gets to the door, she froze the moment her hand touched the door knob, anticipating her lungs will go out on her. The tightening feeling squeezing as she instinctively holds her breath. Ordering herself to breathe properly, taking one good deep breath and exhaled. She opens the door trying to remember between the awkwardness, the anxiety and the madness, to breathe and to keep it steady.

The door swings wide open, there he was, the skeleton monster, standing right in front of her. Yep, no joke at all. She turns to the kitchen clock and it reads 8 o’clock. She turns back, him with a smug look on his face.

“Had a nice nap sleeping beauty?” he placed his foot against the door, blocking her only means to slam it. Taking a good look at Frisk, seeing that the dark circles under eyes have improved quite a bit. Then his eyes veer towards her neck, seeing that she didn’t even cleaned up the dried up mud on her face. “Jeez all this time and you still haven’t taken a shower?” he stated mockingly, a sight bit of irritation in the back of his voice.

“What do you want?” she snapped. Then realizing that she needed to stay calm.

_Breathe._

“Of course, you were so tired, I guess you don’t remember,” he crosses his arms, the smile not wiping from his face.

“Remember what?”

_Breathe._

“You agreed to coming to the monster meeting today,” he said finally blurting it out, his eyes smiling like his teeth.

She glances down, her eyes darting back and forth. Trying to remember, she would have remembered agreeing to something like that. However, her memory was still fogey and can’t even piece together what happened after she left the monster back at the notary department.

“I’m here to take you.”

“What?” she snapped back from her own trance of reminiscing. Lost as to what he said to her.

“Frisky, what’s goin’ on?” Jem placing her hands on Frisk’s shoulders, looking over one side. Unsure on what to make of the skeleton monster.

Sans spots Jem and raised his hat. “Ah you must be his main squeeze, don’t worry doll face. Your boyfriend here has to go to a little meeting with me, but I’ll bring him back safe ‘n sound.” He finished, winking at the scared blonde.

She pulls Frisk back, her lips to her ear, “Frisky. Tell me what’s going on! Who is that guy?” she yelled in a hushed voice.

Frisk turns to face her, hiding their conversation, giving the skeleton only a view of Frisk’s back. “Jem, don’t worry…” She hesitates, “he’s the new job that I’m taking.” She responds back with the same hushed tone. Both intertwined in a conversation in whispers.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“I didn’t get the chance, it just sort of happened last night.”

“LAST NIGHT?!” she yelled in a hushed tone. “You mean after you walked me out?”

“Err… before… I walked you out…” she said unconfidently.

“Before?!” she gets upset, “and you didn’t tell me?”

“How could I?”

“Frisky, look at him!” she motions her hand towards Sans. “He’s a monster, a mobster… A monster mobster! You said that you don’t help his type, the mobster type!”

“Look I don’t really have a choi-” Frisk stopped mid-sentence, feeling Sans grab a tight hold of her forearm.

“’Scuse me, but I did say that we are headin’ to a meetin’, maybe you should finish this conversation after he gets back.” Sans exclaimed, jerking Frisk.

“Wait a moment, Gaster,” she manages to jerk her arm back to lean back towards Jem. Jem with a scared and confused look in her eyes. She tells her in a whisper, “don’t worry, I’ll be fine. We’ll be at Charger’s, you know the deal. If I don’t call you before 10-”

She mouths out, “call the police,” finishing Frisk’s sentence. Glancing at the monster cautiously.

Frisk nods, as Sans pulls her out of the doorway. He gives the terrified girl a pleasant smile, as she gives him a nasty glare. All the while looking at Frisk, who is looking down and dawned an irritated look on her face.

Frisk manages to glance back up at Jem, though in an instant her figure morphs and the world around her goes fast. Her head spinning trying to make sense of what is just happening before her. Then the world around her goes black, then she gets blinded by a red tinge of light. She gets a hold of her footing now that she no longer feels like her head is spinning. She takes in the surroundings, immediately hit with the scent of cigarette smoke. However, thinking that she was just at her apartment, not even moments though her eyes had to adjust she could see she is in _Charger’s Pub_. The look of bewilderment on her face, then feeling the rest of her body catch up, she falls down to her knees and heaves right on the floor.

The patrons in the establishment quickly took sight at the new arrivals who seem to come out from nowhere. Then Frisk hears a new voice aimed in their direction.

“SANS! YOU NEED TO BE MORE DELICATE WITH THE HUMAN!” the voice roared.

As for Sans, he shrugged. Dawning an amused smile on his face as he looked down at her. “Sorry, bro- Don. This is my first time transporting a human before. How am I supposed to know this woulda happen?”

Frisk lifted her head up, with her left hand around her stomach and her right wiping the chunks of her stomach’s contents off her face. Teary eyed, she manages to make out the people in front of her. She could see she was placed at the bottom of the stairs of the loft. And looking up the loft she could see two tall figures. No longer wanting to stay on the floor she picks herself up. Standing next to her right side, who didn’t even offered a hand, is Sans. Although, she wouldn’t want his help after whatever he did to take her all the way from the ends of East Division to end up in West Division. Then she spots the bear standing at herleft. As for the two figures standing on the top of the steps of the loft, she sees two monsters.

Papyrus and Undyne, looking down at her. The red head fish monster smirking as she and Frisk both locked in eye contact. “Heh… Don’t worry you’ll get used to it after the first few times.” She chuckled.

Frisk still in pain and holding her aching stomach, couldn’t help but be in awe at the sight of the two monsters before her. Thinking that she thought Sans was tall, only to be proven wrong. She took immediate interest in observing the skeleton monster, even taking note that he is so tall that even he towered over his companion. After gawking at Papyrus, she turns her attention to the fish lady, who she recalls the night previous, the same monster standing next to Sans. Even amazed to see a feminine form dressed in a men’s suit. Thinking that monsters are lucky to not have to deal with the dress code restrictions that humans have to abide too. Although, she was pretty sure, humans must give the monster flack for dressing like that. Thinking that the fish monster is the type of renegade that she’d wear the suit even if monsters had to abide by the same law. They both were impressive monsters, to think that there was someone more intimidating than Sans. When she took a closer look at Papyrus, especially gazing into the narrow lights of his eyes, she was sure who the real top monster is around here. Even recalling to when she heard Sans address the fella as “Don” she didn’t disapprove of it. Papyrus looked and felt the part, **if Sans is the reaper, this guy must be the undertaker…** she thought. Never thinking that there were more skeletons to be afraid of. Papyrus can just size up a guy who even looks at him the wrong way and let Sans handle all the messy work, just like how a undertaker and reaper team would handle things.

Altogether, with that in mind, she remembered that these monsters are the head of a criminal organization and she works for them now. She is their “property”, it’s not like dealing with a bunch of thugs that could beat Frisk up and leave her bloodied in a dirty alley way. These monsters could do much worse: ending her without a moment’s notice, gather dirt on the people she interacted with, and the one though that sprang up to her mind.

“ _ANYTHING!”_

As long as Sans don’t tell them her secret, she won’t have to worry about that last option. However, if they do find out, and if they are anything like Sans, they’d sell her… Sell her body, torment her in the most gruesome way as possible. There was no doubt in her mind that the monsters that Sans reports to. The very two monsters in front of her, are the ones who made Sans the cynical monster that he is.

Be it monster or human, an organized family of monsters are what mafias are made of. She could feel herself curing up into a ball, though no showcasing it physically. Thank god her body didn’t respond the way her heart and mind feels at this moment. Knowing every wrong move could be her last. She knew how to act with the last mafia that ruled these streets. However these monsters could be offended the moment she treats them like the last criminal organization. If she were to survive this, she will have to keep her head level and only speak when spoken to.

“PLEASE EXCUSE MY BROTHER, LITTLE HUMAN. ALTHOUGH, IF HE DIDN’T COME TO GET YOU YOU’D BE LATE FOR SURE.” Papyrus declared sympathetically. “NOW THEN LET’S GET THIS MEETING STARTED, SHALL WE?” he holds out a warm hand, beckoning Frisk to join the two monsters up on the loft.

Caught off guard by the warm offer of his hand, she suspects it as their method of addressing things, concluded that she still has to keep her guard. She didn’t contest the monster and walks up the loft to join them. Looking back to see Sans won’t be joining her to this meeting. Although, her nerves are beyond shaken of the whole situation, she’s relieved to see the source of her panic attacks won’t be anywhere near her. She focuses on the monsters in front of her, taking a seat across from the two who decided to sit in a booth. The moment she sat down, her body will be put under immense strain from her heart and ever tightening lungs. A fight to keep herself together.

Her internal mantra begins.

_Breathe._

 

Even though, Sans wasn’t invited to sit with the acting Don’s his assignment was to eavesdrops on the entire conversation. Only picking off the information she tells them in regards of the city and any activity that deserves the Delta’s attention.

“PREPARE YOURSELF, TINY HUMAN, FOR YOU ARE IN THE PESENCE OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS AND UNDYNE THE UNDYING!”

“Okay take it down a notch we don’t want to go and spook ‘em,” Undyne insisted, crossing her arms and placing a leg over the other. “Tell us your name human, so we can get this meeting OFFICIALLY started.”

“Oh… uh… right, right. Frisk D. Spara,” she said nervously, she takes a deep breath mentally preparing herself. She sits up straight, “it has been mentioned a bit from Mr. Gaster, that you’d need my help?” **Shit, don’t start saying shit now…** Already regretting to ever adding more to the response of telling them her name.

Undyne shocked to hear a human using formalities while addressing Sans, she couldn’t help but snort to herself. “Hah ‘Mr. Gaster’?” She laughs some more. Leaning over where she could see Sans hat peeking over the railing. “What? You’re letting humans call you Mr. Gaster now?” She couldn’t contain herself and roars in laughter.

As for Papyrus, he didn’t see the amusement in it, the lights in his sockets dimmed, then brightened up. He turns to Undyne, “OKAY WE GET IT UNDYNE!” he turns his attention back at Frisk and glares in disgust. Frisk in response jumps the moment Papyrus exploded. “ENOUGH OF THE FORMALITIES!”

“Okay okay…” Undyne wiping a tear from her only eye. She turns her attention towards Frisk. “Yeah, you got that right, punk. We do need your help.” She continues, “You seem pretty aware of what’s going on around this city. Rumor has it, that you can find information on anything and anyone.” She watches as Frisk nervously nods in haste, clarifying the belief. “Not only that, but you seem to know better than anyone how the city runs. I don’t have to ask if you know about the monster restriction zones.”

“No, I’m very familiar with it.”

“Good, cause at the rate things are goin’ there won’t be much room here in west side for monsters. We want the same freedom as you do.” She declared, looking at Frisk straight in the eye. “Sans just informed us today that monsters are allowed in Central, we were told differently by our underlings.”

Waiting for Undyne to continue more, she takes what she thinks as a shot in the dark, “you want me to tell you where the restrictions zones are?”

“Yup!”

“I can help with that…” she reaches towards her back pocket and takes out a folded up map, loose pieces of scratch paper and notes are stuffed between the folds. She unfolds the map, placing it on the table. “Ya can’t have this one,” she glances up nervously. Hoping that she didn’t offend them. “But if you have your own map I can draw a much cleaner diagram of the unmarked boarders.”

Sans peaks over to see a tiny glimpse of the map, while Papyrus just stares straight on and Undyne examining the large diagram.

“You’ve been busy,” she squints at the small illegible side notes. “I think we’ll give you a new map, this one’s too hard to read.” Although, ignoring the notes and loose pieces of paper Undyne tries to read the familiar parts of the map, but Frisk could see her frustration the more she stared at the map. “How old is this thing? I’ve never even seen these landmarks before.”

“Um… It’s pretty dated, I’ve had it since I was 8,” she commented. “So not everything is where they should be now… Which was why, I suggested you provide a new map.” Her heart racing, thinking she’s giving out way too much information and needs to keep it blunt.

“So you could say you’ve saw this place changed, huh?” she asked sympathetically, reading the drawn out lines.

“I… Uh… Can’t say… I was here one time when I was little,” she managed, though her mouth continued. “I mainly lived in country side for some time before I came back. Only had it cause of that one time.” She looks down at the map. “Kept it in hopes that I would come back.”

“And you did.”

“Yep… I did.” She said with a distant tone. At the same time surprised that Undyne didn’t scold her for saying more. Thinking that their interaction is starting to be more converse than just telling them what they need to know.

Sans listening on their conversation, thinking and at that same moment Undyne asks the same question that he was thinking.

“Wait! If you’re not from here, then why make an effort to know the place and to know it this detailed too?” Undyne asked, her arms extending to the map.

“Oh… well, when I came here, I didn’t expect to know so much… One thing just sorta lead to another,” she said bringing herself to look up at Undyne and away from the map. Thinking she at least owe Undyne an explanation than a short answer. “On my free times, it first started off looking for cats and lost nick knacks. Then people started askin’ me to look for their missing kids cause of supper, eavesdropping on friend’s conversations thinking that their friends were being disloyal, next thing you know I just started taking up any jobs the police or citizens board were offering.”

Undyne slams her hands on the table, enraged. “Wait! You’re working for the cops?!” Sans jolted up at the rumble of the table and looks back to see Undyne’s livid expression on her face. Even he didn’t know the extent of Frisk’s connections.

Frisk shocked, called back to her senses, and regrettably knew that she made a mistake in getting too comfortable for her own good. She elaborates, “No, I don’t work for anybody. I only take jobs from the police cause they do a shitty job protecting this city by the book,” she said stern and straight faced. Although, almost glaring at Undyne for assuming she worked for the organization that no longer helps people in need unless they get some merit from it. Then collects herself, her eyes veering down, “I guess I ended up going so far cause I saw that I was making some sort of difference in this city.” **A city where that fucker won’t mess it up anymore…**

Undyne saw the look in Frisk’s face, the feelings she expressed were genuine. Just as how Undyne remembered what she was like in her youth living in the underground. No one helped the monsters, the monsters having to make do for themselves.

Undyne nods at Frisk’s statement, “well, as long as what you said is true, you can help us right?” Placing both feet flat on the ground, hunched over with her fingers intertwined. Looking at Frisk in the eye, almost pleading for her help.

Frisk caught off guard for how trusting Undyne was, though she wasn’t going to use that trust to her advantage. Even if Frisk did manage to tell the cops the monster mob’s every move, she’d be losing all the trust she’s gained from all the monsters. Not only that, but there was also the issue of Sans blabbering to the world about her secret in retaliation. There really wasn’t anywhere she could go. Trapped… until she can get an edge over Sans, and she believes that through his mafia family, she’ll get what she’s looking for. Even if it means allying herself with the mafia, which is what she’s not looking forward to.

“Yes.” She stated bluntly, though when she thought back to Undyne’s question. She found it to be quite off. **She asked me instead of ordering me?** Before she could think on it more, Papyrus, who happened to be very quiet in the entirety of the meeting, shot up from his seat.

“EXCELLENT! WELL THEN, SANS FETCH THIS HUMAN A MAP AS HE SHALL TELL US MORE OF THIS CITIES LIMITS!”

Sans came up to the loft as ordered, but instead of leaving right after, all three monsters hovered over as Frisk draws on the more current map of the city. Explaining the grand detail of the city’s boarders and domains.

First explaining the main entrances to the city. One she distinctly mentions that is familiar with all the monsters is North Division, though thanks to the city’s security all visitors or those who wish to live in the city must transfer over by railway to central.

Which Sans remembered when departing the train and transferring over when he arrived in central. Though the monsters who greeted him, informed him that they are only allowed to be there for boarding / off boarding the railway only.

The other entrance to the city would be the southern ports of the South’s domain. That being the commercial used ports of South Eastern Division, and the common ports of South Western Division. Though, restrictions only applying to South Eastern due to the fact most of the products that come in are for human resource purposes only. Monsters are allowed with permits, but it only covers for certain hours of the day.

Frisk then mentions of an additional entrance/exit to the city, which is East Division’s industrial railway bridge. Though, since the trains decommission, the city’s officials raised the bridge sections to deter any unregistered citizens who wish to sneak in.

Then she points out the domains one by one.

SOUTH DOMAIN- The city slums, mostly poor residential areas. Mixed in with a few dockyards by the ports and beaches of the divisions, as well as warehouses. Western side of the South domain, is confirmed to be claimed by monsters. Treating the area with much care, even though with a low human population, it is known to be the nicest part of the South domain. Having access to the lake that leads to thick woods if anyone were to cross it. South, being claimed by the poverty to lower class, mostly known for the most violence in the city. The biggest population of monster hating, race hating humans that resides there. Rumors spreading that there’s an anti-monster cult, and they don’t show any mercy to monsters who may wander into their domain. Eastern side, comprises mostly of industrial businesses, factory line facilities, and a few privately own businesses that helps make the rest of the division livable.

WEST DOMAIN- Most of the monsters are well informed of the domain, since the city has deemed it theirs. Though besides having joint custody with South over South Western Division, West side itself is predominately monster territory. In some cases the humans that still live in that domain are of the lower to moderate middle class and have been living there before the population boom. As for North side, what could only be described as the city’s ruins. The formal mafia lord’s domain, ruins of what used to be his casinos and whore houses, now all scattered to the wind. Many people don’t explore it since the area is off limits to both humans and monsters. All that resides there now is the power plant, and yes, even the mafia lord himself had control over that power, thankfully not anymore.

EAST DOMAIN- Just like its sister’s division, East also shares custody with South over South Eastern Division. However, East side, also where Frisk lives, a lot more quaint and less monsters, east also shares the same social class as west. Only comprising of lower middle to moderate middle class. With East supplying a big park, farmer’s market, with some luxury stores and dinners. North Eastern Division shines in comparison, though highly redistricted to only humans, not even permits can help the monster gain access. Though Frisk mentions not even most humans from the southern domains can even gain access there. North Eastern Division is the upper crust’s domain, regal buildings and high end shops and grocery stores. The only way anyone could gain access there is if you’re dead, Frisk adds. Located far south east, almost overlapping East Division is the cemetery, granted there are plenty around the domains, but none as vast as the one that resides in North Eastern Division.

NORTH DOMAIN-Just the same as the southern domains, north shares supervision of the west and east divisions that overlap its domain. North Division’s elite University and Stock market exchange are the predominate features of North Side. Other than City hall and the court house, of course there’s also beautiful luxury houses lining every street. Another difficult place for both lower dwelling humans and monsters to go. Arguably, Frisk despises all of North Division, though she rather spare the monsters on that detail.

CENTRAL- Known as the heart of the city. Which Sans already know where the notary department resides. On top of that it is also where the police department and the county jail house dwell. Besides the other official buildings the only place that it has going for them is the railway station that branches out to the other domains except South Division. That and a classy dinner, or at least that’s what Frisk deems as worthy note taking. As for the rest of the Central, it is highly under developed causing restrictions to only the north half of Central which is where the jail house is placed.

Finally finished explaining, Frisk sits back down and watches as the monsters eye each other. Conversing on what they speculated on the city’s limits for monsters and the actual evidence in front of them. From where they are, the loft seemed to be the worst in accumulating cigarette smoke. Frisk was able to fight off the urge of coughing the entire time, but is struggling and fighting between holding her breath and just taking in as much air as she can. Still a risk of her coming off as rude she makes an attempt to excuse herself.

“Pardon me… I’m just gonna go to the bathroom…” she managed, fighting the itching sensation in her throat.

She watches as Undyne waves her hand towards her, shooing her as her attention doesn’t leave Papyrus’s face. Continuing their assumptions, once Frisk reached down the loft and quickening her pace towards the bathroom, Undyne eyes Sans and gives him a strong nod. Signaling him to keep an eye on her.

Sans nods back, though a bit irked that he has to be the one to spy on the human. However, not entirely annoyed since he did enjoy seeing her fall to such a humiliating state when they first arrived. Thinking, it’s not going to be too bad this time. He follows her, seeing her head straight to the men’s room. Another thing to add to her innate instincts that she doesn’t second guess herself that she really is a man, he thought. Though, before he could push the door open he hears hear coughing violently. Then there was a faint sounds of hissing, at that point he swings the door open.

Frisk jumped at the sudden door swing stares at Sans, as the sight of him registered, she immediately moved her hand behind her.

“This doesn’t look like you need to use the bathroom?” he stated walking in, the door closing and as it did, he leaned against it.

“Shut up, it’s not like you need to use it.” She blurted, emphasizing the phrase on the account that he’s a skeleton. She places her foot back, the same foot where her arm is hiding. Contemplating on the risk of trying to shove the brass tube in her pocket.

He catches the subtle movement, although her eyes were fixed onto him, her body language motions on something else she deems important to hide from him. At an instant, Sans vanishes right in front of her, swearing in her mind that she didn’t even blink. Then the overwhelming feeling of her heart leaping out of her chest when she could feel the brass tube being lifted out of her hand.

“What’s this?” she turns to see Sans directly behind her, lifting her only life line up to his face like some kind of test tube or specimen.

“Give it back!” she jumps up extending her arm to reach it, only to be a few feet shy as Sans blocks her advance with his arm and raises the tube up higher.

“Heheh no way, little lady.” He returns her response with a smug grin. Then turns his attention back at the tube. “So what is this thing? Your dope fix?” he wonders, looking back at her. “Ya’know drugs are bad for you.” Then, he turns his attention back to the tube.

“That’s not what it is!”

Ignoring her, he examines it. Never seen any device like it before. “So what do you exactly do with,” he continues, putting the only opening to his eyes, trying to see if he could look inside, “this?”

She reaches out to his arm and yells, “No don’t-”

Just before she could finish his hand squeezes on the button and the remnants inside spray into his eyes.

“ARRRGH!” Sans backs into Frisk, holding to his eyes and dropping the tube. His eyes burning from the unknown solution, losing his footing and baking towards the sink.

Frisk in response catches him, resulting in him sandwiching her against the sink. However, she catches herself placing her foot back, bracing herself on the impact and sits him down on the floor. Standing back up to turn on the faucet.

She bends back down, placing her hands under his arm pits and pulling him up, who is still squirming from the pain. Though, having a difficult time trying to get him standing cause of his weight. **How can someone made of bone be so heavy?** “Com’on get up! You need to rinse your eyes!” she scolded.

Feeling the pulling motion on his upper body, he manages to get his legs under him, together standing Sans up. She places her arm around his back, guiding him to the sink. She has him bend over, cupping the water in her hands and splashing it in his eyes. The situation making her wonder how he could even feel pain when he doesn’t have eyeballs. Though she disregards it, recalling the pain that Sans expressed like she did when she was given the device.

Continuing to splash his eyes, she coaches him with her arm around his back, “blink, it’ll help…” once he settled down, he started to rinse out his eyes himself. She observes to see his improvement, leaves him to go search for the tube. She grabs the tube once she finds it.

As for Sans he turns off the sink and rubs his eye sockets, “thanks.” She didn’t respond, thinking she didn’t need to take his gratitude. Though she never thought he would ever say thanks to her. Reminding herself that she would only respond to his questions, even though that wasn’t entirely the deal she made herself. “What is that thing?” He added.

She didn’t want to respond to that either. She veers down, fiddling with the tube in her hands. He looks up at her after feeling the burning sensation subside. Her trying to figure out what she should tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else sprayed themselves in the eyes with an inhaler?  
> No...?  
> No one...?  
> Just me...?  
> Well don't I feel stupid.


	5. The Undertaker and an Unlikely Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her suffering-His suffering  
> Her deal-His stubbornness
> 
> Her Supervisor-  
> Her... Friend?-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School work school work work work. That's the story of my life.

Frisk has really outdone herself now. First and foremost, making the biggest mistake in her life by letting her guard down long enough for a monster to find out her true identity. Then, screaming that’ll she’ll do “ _ANYTHING_ ” to keep her identity hidden at said monster. After that, swearing herself to answer any questions the monster asks that didn’t have to do with her rhyme or reason of why she’s a man. Finally, now, out of everything, the one thing she told herself not to do, is letting this monster find out about her shortcoming. From what she could tell, THAT is now out the window as well.

Yep, chalk that one up to the ever-growing list of how deep a hole she’s dug herself in. Every time she screws up, she learns how to prevent making the same mistake again, all the while making new mistakes in the process. Though, not the type to blame people when things fall through, she couldn’t help but blame herself for letting these events slip through her fingertips. Additionally, speaking of fingertips, the tube that is gently caressed in her hands is feeling increasingly lighter than before. Only using half of her dosage, one puff, to help her last throughout the week, now has to consider only using it for dire emergencies. Estimating by the feel of how light the device is, she guesses that it might only have enough for a puff and a half. Hardly enough to last her, but just enough to save her, or at least that’s what she thinks. She couldn’t help but get upset over the multitude of opportunities she had when alone in the bathroom that ended up discarded. Disillusioned by her poor decision making, out of all the options: she could have stuffed it in her pocket, ran into a stall to take her dose there, or just didn’t take the tube out in the first place. No, out of all her choices she chose to hide it, and hide it insufficiently.

She leans against the wall, fiddling around with the brass tube, keeping her eyes locked on it. Thinking how bad the situation’s gotten. In light, if she knew about Sans’s pain receptors, she would have used the device as a means of self-defense in the beginning. Though it would have been wasted on him and the thought of it wasted as well, since there was nothing she could do to turn back time. What happened, happened and there’s no changing it, thinking if she could, she could have done something to prevent the event that made her decide to become a man in the first place. Completely avoiding this situation and all others in the process. However, she immediately discards the thought, believing that there was nothing she could have done to make a difference anyway. She huffs at the very thought of time travel. Only a myth, an idea conjured by people just like her. People who were born in just as a shitty life as she’s born in, making up a fantasy to forget about how bad life is, a life that will never be their own. She can’t live in a fantasy, she has to focus on her position now if she wants to live.

She still has to give him an answer though, all because of the plan she made. To gain his trust, to get closer to him and find something to extort him for. It’s part of the plan, but she’s not mentally prepared to answer for **_this_** , emphasizing the object in her hands. What can she say? He’s already has so much against her. One full day, within the 24 hours that they’ve known each other he’s already learned about her gender, her jobs, her friends, and where she lives, which she still has no idea how he got a hold of. The one thing she didn’t want him to have, the only thing she thought she has control over, is now exposed. It’s not like she can pretend that this moment never happened. Already regretting her decision to help him when he was blindsided. Even if she did manage to get away, there was still Papyrus and Undyne that she’d have to worry about. On top of that, the power that she’d experienced firsthand, his mysterious teleporting capabilities. He could be anywhere at any moment and she wouldn’t be the wiser. The mere thought of that terrified her. The ‘what ifs’ that have been going through her mind, all the possibilities she came up with as a means to extort him and her will to fight, destroyed in a matter of moments. Nothing is sacred anymore, Sans knows everything now, everything in his arsenal and all that time she haven’t learned a thing about him. The worse part also, is that she’ll have to deal with it… But she doesn’t want to.

Her lips pressing and parting in intervals. Thinking she has an idea as to what she can say about the device, but then mutes herself to think of a different excuse as to what to tell him. As for Sans, all he could do was stare. Seeing her eyes narrow, her brows forward deep in thought. Despite the pulsing stinging fading in and out from his eyes, he could see the struggle on her face. The look of grief. **She really doesn’t want to tell me…** Even though she briefly denied the claim of the object being her dope fix. He assumes that maybe the tiny object in her hands IS some sort of drug relief of hers and she’s just trying to save herself the shame of being caught red-handed. It would definitely make sense as to why she would be hiding it in the first place. Compliment that with her reckless behavior, it wasn’t hard to believe, even though she doesn’t look like the dope abusing type. He figures that she’s probably using it in moderation then. Though he always looked down on those who relied on drugs, makes people do crazy things. On the other hand it might as well suit her, cause just on the account of how crazy and reckless she is.

Still, compared to how he found out about her secret of being a woman in men’s clothing, she was more sporadic and desperate to keep his mouth shut about it. In this instance however, he couldn’t help but notice her taking a more recluse approach as to how she got caught for this. Yeah, she hid it poorly and yes, he did spray it in his eyes… a childish move in fact. Thinking how idiotic he was looking at an unknown device by the only opening, if it were a gun he’d shoot himself. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case and she didn’t leave him suffering on the floor either. Though, like how they first met, he was expecting a lot more frantic reaction to her now revealed drug abuse… that is if case may be. Putting to thought, trying to figure out the lack of response.

**So on top of being a workaholic cross-dressing woman, she’s also a drug shooter. Another secret to add to the list of blackmail I guess.**

_But she didn’t act like she did when she got caught like before._

**So then what? People are aware of her drug fix, and does it in hiding to ward off the shame?**

_No, you saw her take it outside at the construction site. IN BORAD DAYLIGHT. There’s no shame in that._

**True, it would explain her black folder.** Thinking back to her black folder that Sal gave him. Thinking that there might be a rep sheet of her history of drug abuse or something, probably added on top of the incident’s report corresponding to her side of the many problems that she’s likely caused. **So in that case, she’s hiding it from me?** He concluded, his voice of reason not denying or accepting the application. Giving him notion that the feeling is coming off as a strong “maybe”. Though this was all speculation, he’d have to make his suspicions official before he could come to that conclusion.

She flinched the moment she heard his voice. Thinking that she was to slow on the respond as he addressed her, “You’re not gonna tell me, are ya?” his brow raised.

Her will breaking from within, knowing if she didn’t answer this question, he’d force it out of her. Her hands tremble as the object clutched in her hands, reminding her how powerless she is, both devastating her and angering her. If only her body wasn’t so weak, in such a dire need to breathe, she would run away from it all. Before, she thought she had a fighting chance, thinking monsters can’t be as bad as humans. Despite the fact she didn’t know of Sans position in the family at the time, she didn’t expect the monster dons would be as efficient and as intimidating as the previous family. Though now, NOW… The main don called Sans his brother, practically given the notion that Sans is ranked higher than a made man. Right in the line of fire between the dons and Sans, there’s really nowhere she could go if she could run. Trapped in a den of wolves, trapped in a world where she can’t tell anybody of her suffering, and trapped in the bathroom with Sans and his stupid questions.

“I-I don’t know…” she stated, almost coming off as inaudible.

He sighed, “What do mean ‘you don’t know’?”

She paused, contemplating that any truthful response would probably provoke him, but what else can she do? She’s tired of being scared, of being helpless, of doing his bidding, but its official now. She told them that she will help, that she will be working for them now, and them putting their trust in her that she’ll do it. What about her? Sans never gave her his word, thinking back that he told her that she’d have to earn her way out, which could just be a blatant lie and she hated it. If she’s going to work for his mafia, she’ll want to make herself clear of the only flaw, “I can’t trust you to give you an answer.” She declared.

There it was, that word again, “trust”. The mere word reminding him of their time in the mobile office. She stated that too when he tried a merger attempt to get her to confide in him.

_“I have no means in trusting you.”_

Even though, he’s noticed that she’s been responding a bit to his questions, but that’s all he’s been getting, just a bit. She’s answering him, but her answers were certainly not getting any better. He barely got any sufficient response from her for the most basic of questions. Though ask a basic question, get a basic answer he guessed. However, when Undyne asked her said simple questions, she got an answer and more. As well as to top it off, Undyne doesn’t even know her to the extent that Sans does and it irritated him… enraged him in fact. All that time and effort being stuck with her trying to show her his interest in her situation, give her someone to confide in and she wouldn’t give him the time of day. Despite the fact that he never gave her his word that he wouldn’t tell, it was implied at least, thing that it should be good enough for her.

“Listen kiddo, you have my word, you can trust me. I’ll even pretend that the little incident we just had never happen.” He places his hands up, showing that he wasn’t going to do any harm. Willing to get on her good side, to show that he’s willing make an effort.

“Your word means nothing to me when you already have an edge against me.” Her words stinging him, knowing that the mafia prides themselves on their word.

“You already know who to blame for that.” He said with a smug glare.

“Yeah, you,” she stated bluntly. Before she could notice, she feels herself being pulled up by the lapels of her button down. She manages to glance at the source, her hands griping what felt like a rock with grooves that was engulfing part of her shirt. She spots Sans holding her up, so high up that she could only brace herself on the tips of her toes which are having trouble keeping their grip with the floor.

Out of all the humans the mafia had to choose, the only human that has managed to make his figurative blood boiling, was her. Thinking that he’s never met a human as stubborn as she, though that would be a lie. Remembering the human who possessed the same red soul as her, the same red soul that he’d admired when Frisk jogged his memory after seeing her’s for the first time. Back then he thought the same thing as he’s thinking now, how stubborn and reckless they are. How stubborn and reckless she is, to think she’d get away with blaming him for what is to be her fault in how she got caught up in this mess. Figuring that it really is a red soul thing. Oh how he wished he were dealing with some other human right now. No human in their right mind would give him this amount of lip, not in the countryside, not in those tiny little shops and definitely not the human he remembered oh so long ago. Thinking how his human would give him the time of day to hear him out. Granted if she were his human, he wouldn’t have let things escalate to the point that have escalated now. This human, this very human in front of him however… oh just the plain image of seeing her beaten to an ugly bloody pulp sounds like a good look for her right about now.

As he looked at her, he could see it in her eyes. Her piercing silver eyes, daring him what his thoughts are screaming at him to do. Thinking she’s probably lost it from some sort of high, the drug kicking in and is giving her some delusional encouragement. Though, he knows the repercussions if he were to strike her, wouldn’t hear the end of it from Papyrus or Undyne and he would definitely wouldn’t hear the end of it from the old man. So he hopes to just scare her back to her senses, he raised his first up, but it was certain, she didn’t give an inch. He kept his posture for some time, locking stares, as if they were intertwined in a conversation through their eyes. Her glare egging him on, his stare asking if she’s sure… really sure.

“Well?” she declared, trying to balance herself by his gripped hand and getting her toes to stay down on the floor.

A pause ensued after her question, trying to calm himself. Eventually, he sets her down and lets her go, “You’re fucking crazy, ya know that?”

She huffs, “I don’t care. That’s what you think. I have no choice but to help you, I'll help you, but like Hell I'm going to let myself be pushed around by you.I’m gonna stand my ground no matter what and I’ll keep fighting you.”

“For someone who’s resourceful you’re really bad at tryin’ makin’ connections."

“Connections are only established when you can trust someone.” She said in a raised voice.

“I told you, you can trust ME!” he leaned towards her, thumbing himself, his face a foot away from hers. Showing the utter frustration in both his tone and his expression.

“You’ve done nothing but pinned me, stalked me, grabbed me and abducted me!” She declared, glaring back at him as her face closed the gap. “There’s nothing signifying any trust between us either than you…” her volume lowers, “keeping my secret…”

He grits his teeth, dumbfounded for once as he was at a loss for words. She was right and he hated it. The only way for the mafia to gain equal footing with the humans of this city, is the human right in front of him, the same human that is being forced against her will. Even though all of those things that she listed are him thinking that she’d deserved it, he can’t keep this up forever. Especially at the pace things are going, he was willing to strike her within the 24 hours of knowing her. Granted what he would do if they kept this up even longer, she wouldn’t last a week let alone one night. Remembering her soul, and how fragile it was, even if she were to accept fate as it is and manages to detach herself from being the mobs errand boy, from Sans abuse, from everything, how long would that last her really? Irritated that he does have to end up sweetening the deal for a human after all.

He stood up straight and places his hand out, “Truce?” he said looking her in the eyes, his brows lighting up from their angered expression.

She slides her special tool in her pocket as she observed him with his hand held out towards her. “Ya got to give me more than just your word if you want me to trust you,” She insisted.

“Like what?”

“Something of yours.”

“No,” he stated bluntly. She turns her attention towards the door and marches towards it, but before she could even reach it, he places an arm in front of her and pulls her back to her default starting point. Rolling his eyes and letting out a frustrated sigh as he thought, **urgh… She’s not gonna make this any easier, is she?** “Okay, okay, but why something of mine?” He asked, irritated.

“So I’d have an edge on you. So I know that I can trust that you won’t go back stabbin’ me last minute.”

“Fine.” He motions to his hand and grabs one of his rings, as he’s wiggling it free she interrupts.

“I don’t want something that you’ll just replace, it’d have to be something one of a kind. Something special only ta you.”

He stops and glares at her, “Like Hell I will!” he growled. “How the Hell will I know that you’re not just gonna run off with it once I hand it over?”

“Cause, you have my secret remember? I won’t run off with it if you use that against me, and that way we both would be on an equal playing field.”

“That’s the most stupid piece of logic I’ve ever heard. Why don’t I just give you something you want?”

“If I asked for what I want, I’m sure you won’t give it to me,” she stated, as if she already knew before giving it a try.

“Oh really? Try me,” he dared.

“My freedom,” She specified.

 **Fuck.** Out of all the things, he was stupid enough not to see that one coming. Even though she’s technically free, she’s only free in the sense that as long as she does his bidding he won’t squeal to the public about her being a woman. As if he’ll hand her that, that's usually how blackmail works, the only sure fire way that Delta can have their human help is though Sans blackmail. If he gives her freedom, swearing that he won’t use her secret against her, then what? It’s not like she’ll turn around and do him a solid. However, she’s proven to be difficult and he can’t risk his temper getting out of hand and “accidentally” killing her if she decided to make things problematic for him. So the only option she gave him so it won’t end up with him lashing out at her, is placing him in her shoes. Equal footing so if she were to use whatever item he gave her against him, he would do the same in retaliation. Locked in a forever stalemate with neither of them having an edge against the other, a test of trust for the both of them.

Well in that case, he did have something special that he’d carried around on his person. However, like he’ll ever give it to this human, this disgusting human. This girl who didn’t even bother to take a shower before passing out. He’d kill her just even thinking of her greasy hands touching his precious item. He glances down at her hands assuming so, callused, rough, and DIRTY. So unwomanly at all. Hands that are supposed to be delicate aren’t and he’s never going to relinquish something that’ll be manhandled in such grotesque appendages. He’ll have to think on an alternative for the time being. “Fine, I’ll hand my end of the deal to you, but I don’t have it one me right now,” he told his blatant lie.

“Fine,” accepting the answer, though feeling doubtful. Thinking that the object that he plans to barter must be not that important if he doesn’t carry it around on his person, unlike her. “Until you decide to hand in your end of the bargain, I won’t be plannin’ on lettin’ up any time soon.” She brush past him, heading straight for the door and this time, he’s letting her.

Leaving him alone with his anger and frustration, **if that’s how it’s going to be then I don’t care what you do, ya little bitch.** Adding to the thought, he’ll earn her trust one way or another and without sacrificing anything on his end.

 

Moments later, Frisk taking shallow breaths as she makes her way back to the loft, with Sans following not too far behind. Both Undyne and Papyrus at the bottom of the loft, expecting their return. Papyrus eyeing Frisk and giving her a solid nod, as to Undyne nodding to Sans, clarifying his end to which he nodded back.

“UNDYNE AND I, HAVE FOUND THIS INFORMATION QUITE HELPFUL. THANK YOU HUMAN.” Papyrus genuinely stated, though hearing his statement left her with mixed feelings. Finding the words ‘thank you’ being stated way too kind for a monster of his position in power. Still finding it must be their customs, she nods nervously, still not used to Papyrus’s pitch yet, accepting his gratitude. “WHILE YOU WERE AWAY, WE’VE RELAYED THIS TO DON GERSON. WE ALL AGREED THAT FOR THE NEXT MEASURE, IS THAT WE WILL TEST THE BOARDERS THAT YOU MARKED… AH BUT UHH… DON’T GET US WRONG LITTLE HUMAN, JUST MAKING SURE THAT WE CAN TRUST YOU, THAT’S ALL.” He said, trying to sound assuring.

Not surprised at all to hear that the monsters too lack some trust in her. Thinking back on how Undyne treated her by asking Frisk for help instead of ordering her, Frisk is certain now, **so this must be how they do things…** On a different note, her head perks to the new name uttered by the skeleton monster. Don Gerson… a name that didn’t sound like it should strike fear into anyone, but as if that didn’t stop mobsters proving people wrong before. Then she wonders just how many dons were there if there were already two big intimidating ones, but her train of thought gets interrupted by Papyrus’s bellowing tone.

“US DONS ARE AWARE OF YOUR RECRUITMENT FROM MY BROTHER, SANS, THAT YOU WILL BE ACCOMPANYING YOUR FELLOW HUMANS IN UNLOADING AND TRANSPORTING SUPPLIES FROM OUR SHIP DOCKED IN THE SOUTH EASTERN HARBOR.”

She nods, “Umm… yes, that’s correct.”

“SANS IS TASKED WITH OVER SEEING THE ASSIGNMENT AND MAKING SURE THAT IT GETS COMPLETED SUCCESSFULLY. THOUGH, THE DONS AND I BELIEVE THAT FOR THE SAKE OF OUR ALLIANCE, THAT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL OVERSEE THIS JOB. I WISH TO SINGLE-HANDEDLY OBSERVE FOR MYSELF OF HUMAN CAPABILITIES.” He declared.

Hearing that, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy, thinking all she had to worry about was Sans. Feeling that she could at least handle him, but Papyrus, she went from capo, probably under don straight to don in a matter of moments. Thinking her heart can’t take the change in gears yet, especially not when she finally stood her ground against the source of all of her anxiety.

As for Sans, he pulls Undyne to the side, all the while keeping Frisk in his line of sight. He couldn’t help feel a little pleasure seeing the color fade from her face after Papyrus preform that 180 ̊ on her. Though at the same time, he couldn’t help but be a bit curious as to why the abrupt job change. He speaks low as to not interrupt Papyrus’s conversation with the human and leans towards Undyne. “What’s with the sudden job change? Ya’know the humans will be expecting me and not Paps, right?”

“Gerson’s idea,” she answered in a hushed tone. Also keeping an eye on Frisk, leaning towards where she estimates the skeletons ‘ear’ would be. “After all this time, Papyrus hasn’t been exposed to humans on a conversational level. It’s a perfect way to help Papyrus get more human interaction.” She stated. “And look on the bright side, at least you’ll get a break from the kid. Ya did say the punk’s been gettin’ on your nerves, right?” she nudged his shoulder.

“So does this mean, I get a day off for once?” He smiled, in hopes that it really is the break he needed.

“I’m gonna advise not staying at home if you don’t want me to call you.” she insisted.

 **Finally.** He smiled, his smile so wide it turned to a wide grin. Finally, a day off and not one of those brief laze about by the phone waiting to be called in for more orders kind of day off. A real break, where he can venture out and take in more than what this tasks gave him. Though, before he could contemplate as where he should start in his sightseeing adventure, Undyne interrupts him one last time.

“Though, this is not an order, but at least stop by and check on him when you have the time.” She turns giving him a toothy grin.

“Of course! He may be actin’ don, but he’s my brother first before anything else,” he stated, almost forgetting that Papyrus now has to deal with his trouble making friend. Still, by how her expression of terror remained on her face, Sans believes he has nothing to worry about, even though he couldn’t help but worry. Deep down, he knows that his brother is just putting up a front, ever since Papyrus started grade school in the Underground, he’s always trying to come off as over the top. Never once letting anything or anyone get to him, Sans assumption that Papyrus wouldn’t want Sans to worry about him while Sans tries his best to stay in school, though failed, but all the while keeping a roof over their heads with his many jobs before joining the mob. Thankfully for Papyrus’s impressive luck with puberty, his height and bellowing voice makes it hard for anyone to notice his shortcoming, usually finding Papyrus too intimidating to question him or his position. The only concern Sans has over his brother is his ego. Just like Sans, Papyrus always puts his family before himself though at the same time, believing that he is in just as high of class as the family sets themselves as. However unlike Sans, when Papyrus gets overzealous and someone calls him on it, instead of becoming enraged like his brother, Papyrus shuts down. Knowing Papyrus, he feeds off the mood of people to keep him from tripping over himself and Frisk is the perfect fodder for his ego. That is, as long as Papyrus keeps up the momentum, keeping her in some state of anxiety, which he's not aware that he's doing, he has nothing to worry about.

 

After their conversation, Papyrus waves to signal that the meeting is officially over. Thanking Frisk one last time and shaking her hand. To Sans her expression only stayed in a constant wave between scared and mildly intimidated, only speaking when spoken too. Then Undyne does the same as Papyrus as she approached Frisk. Giving Frisk a smile, a good hand shake and a slap on the arm, startling Frisk at the sudden action. Frisk finally relived that the mobster meeting is officially over and determined never go to another one anytime soon. Thinking of Jem and how worried sick she must be, even though Jem had her orders, waiting until 10 to whether or not expect your friend to call back saying that they’re in one piece or call the police stating that her friend might be in pieces is just too much for anyone to take. Though before Frisk could manage her way to the front counter, she immediately gets stopped by Sans, who didn’t choose the tactic of appearing suddenly and more like stepping in from the shadows.

Frisk in no mood to be dealing with more skeletons steps around, “Move, I need to call Jem,” she demanded.

Sans places a hand on her shoulder, “Don’t be rude, ya little prick. I’m just here to make something clear.” He said, well aware that both of them are standing out in the open. “I won’t be the one to keep you out of trouble, so don’t go makin’ things hard for my brother. Got it?” he declared, his grip tightening on her.

She slaps his hand away, “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on it,” she stated, annoyed. Despite that she made things clear to him that she’ll be determined to make his life hell if he didn’t establish some kind of fair ground, as much as she’d love the thought of tormenting him by making things difficult for his brother. She’s more terrified of Papyrus and what he may do to her if she did started treating him like she does with Sans.

Leaving him as she makes her way towards past the counter and towards Charger’s back office. As for Sans, he gets called back by Undyne to converse more on the map that Frisk drawn on. All three monsters hovering over the updated map while the old one pushed to the side. Undyne glancing up at Sans, knowing well aware she told him that he had the day off. Sans could see it in her eye, that there must be something she wanted him to accomplish on the side. Though he’s planning the same thing once he saw the map.

“Ya want me to explore the confirmed ‘O.K.’ zones, don’t cha?”

Her smile widened, “Already knew what I was gonna ask before I said it, I must be getting’ easy ta read. I’ll need ta do somethin’ about that,” she joked. “But yes, just on the side, if ya don’t get to it I won’t get upset over it. We still got OUR informant,” she implied, referring some other information broker than Frisk.

“Nah nah, I got it, I’m plannin’ on goin’ around town anyway,” he clarified.

Undyne nods, having no other matters to press on him, takes her leave. Giving Papyrus and good pat on the shoulder, and Papyrus taking his seat across from Sans. All the while Sans making comparisons to Frisk’s old map and new one, taking out a smaller map from his inner pocket and drawing a rough outline of her diagrams. Papyrus keeping quiet, watching as Undyne reaches to the point where she was no longer in earshot.

“Sup bro?” Sans asked, feeling Papyrus’s presence and assuming that there must be something on his mind.

“THE HUMAN IS NOT WHAT I EXPECTED,” he declared. “I THOUGHT ALL HUMANS ARE HOSTILE, THIS HUMAN COMPLETELY CAUGHT ME OFF GUARD.”

Sans thinking back to what Undyne stated about Papyrus lacking in conversational experience with humans, thinking that he didn’t lack it, but the fact he had none whatsoever. “Not all humans are out ta kill ya, Paps,” he stated, assuring Papyrus. “Or at least ya don’t have ta worry about this one,” he said still drawing on his map.

“AH YES, I’LL BE DEALING WITH MORE THAN ONE HUMAN TOMORROW, YOU WILL SUPPLY ME ON THE INFORMATION THAT I NEED SO I CAN GET BETTER ACQUAINTED WITH THESE HUMANS,” he demanded.

“There’ll be monsters too if ya don’t feel comfortable, but you’ll do fine. The humans that I was told to be O.K. with, is him and Joe. But don’t force yourself, got it?” he looked up at Papyrus’s eyes. Making himself clear to Papyrus as to not overdo it.

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO TELL ME BROTHER!” He declared getting agitated.

“Don’t get flustered now,” he snicker.

“I’M NOT!” he yelled throwing his arms in the air, then turned around crossing his arms as he brooded. The big bad don aura that he kept up for the entire time coming off like a little kid on a tantrum.

Sans upset that he reacted the way he did, him completely forgetting that they’re still out in public. “Hey! None of that, we’re not at home yet,” he declared in a hushed tone.

“AH! YES YES, YOU’RE RIGHT!” He said, pulling himself out of his brooding posture and regained his composure.

After Sans finishes up jotting down some last marginal notes, Frisk emerges from the back office, the look of defeat on her face as she rubs her forehead. Finally getting off the phone with Jem, apparently her taking all of Charger’s valuable time in running the joint, with him trying to calm Jem down, answering all of her questions every other minute wondering what Frisk is doing and if she’s okay. Frisk in the end, receiving and earful from both Charger and Jem, demanding to know what she’s got herself into. Debating whether to have an intervention as this seemed to push them over the edge. Frisk knowing very well that there’ll be more reprimanding from Jem once she gets home.

Frisk eyes Sans and Papyrus up on the loft, her eyes and Sans’s locked and instead of making for the front entrance which she’ll get more unnecessary interactions with the skeleton monster, she changes her direction towards the back door. Though she doesn’t get far as she feels a familiar hand gently land on her shoulder.

“I still have orders to escort you back.” The voice sounded behind her. Knowing very well that it’s Sans. “I can send ya home just as fast as it took us to get here.”

 Her face almost growing pale at the thought of the weird trip she took to get to Charger’s in a matter of moments and shakes her head. “N-no no, I’d rather walk.”

He shrugged, “I don’t think my brother would appreciate it.”

She turns her head and spots Papyrus at the loft, standing tall and looking directly at her, almost menacingly.

Her head lowers, keeping her eyes down, “I’ll ask one of the guys to drive me home.” Then without hearing what he had to say in response she pulls herself away and changes her destination towards the bar.

His mouth formed a line, irritated. He should have saw that coming, she is still going to prove to be a stubborn one. Though he doesn’t have to deal with her until whenever the don’s deemed him to. Thinking that he should help prepare Papyrus for his first job with the humans so that he could enjoy the free time he has until the time raises when the dons need him when contacting Frisk.

 

* * *

 

Thursday morning, a gray overcast blankets the sky as Frisk is sitting down, her legs outstretched in the bed of a Volvo pickup truck, sipping on a mug full of coffee. Joining her in the bed of the pickup is Joe who is also seated next to her and taking a few slurps from his own mug. As to who’s driving the truck is one of the Bonoviso brothers, Arron and his younger brother sitting next to him in the passenger seat. Frisk’s back leaned against the rear view window as she appears to be wearing something in addition to the normal outfit she wears, a brown wool blazer, a dark brown paddy hat and her shoes placed beside her instead of on her feet. Practically everyone in the vehicle seems to be wearing something similar to Frisk’s outfit, either thick coats or blazers, complemented with clean paddy hats, not like the hats they wore at the construction site. Stocked in the truck bed with Frisk and Joe are two huge silver cylinders marked in white paint, one reading _HOT COFFEE_ and the other reading _WATER_.  The truck that they’re riding in is trailing behind two other pickup trucks, one carrying human passengers and the other monsters. The line of vehicles heading south, towards their new work destination, commissioned by the skeleton monster Sans. Though before their departure Frisk informed the men of the change in management and instead of Sans, they’ll have to be weary of his, what she assumes to be, older brother, Papyrus. Other than that, everyone understood the situation without much complaint, as long as they’re getting compensated for their work, it didn’t matter to them. As for Joe, he knows when there’s more going on, seeing the deflated look of Frisk’s face, it didn’t take long for his poking and prodding to get her to tell him about her fight with Jem when she got home later the night previous.

“Don’t worry Frizzy, I’m sure when ya get home she’ll be over her little tantrum,” Joe comforted, patting and rubbing Frisk’s back as she looks out the truck bed, seeing the construction site getting smaller and smaller as the further they rode away.

“Easy for you ta say, you don’t live with her…” she takes a sip of her coffee.

Frisk with a dazed look in her eyes, didn’t get much sleep since she got home the night previous. She stayed up until 1 in the morning, having a yelling match with Jem. Frisk thinking she’d be used to it by now, but her abrupt disappearance from the apartment have made Jem paranoid and frantic. She got home safely and tried calming her roommate down, but Hell has no fury like Jem’s. Despite Frisk being the man of the house, Jem likes to think every once in a while that she’s the voice of reason. Both of them working two jobs, though unsurprisingly Jem being the breadwinner with her sex selling profession, of course she has to have the say in how Frisk should run her life. Especially so if she’s contributing more than half to their rent. Frisk couldn’t blame her for being so concerned, but how easy for Jem to tell Frisk to do something better with her life is easier said than done. It infuriates Frisk, she knows to just let whatever Jem say go in one ear and out the other, but after so many years of being with her of course her words will eventually work their way under Frisk’s tough thick skin. Luckily for Frisk, Jem also had work to do that morning and cut off their fight before it became too late to get enough sleep in for them to work properly. However, cause of Jem having the last say and not letting Frisk get her two cents in, left Frisk with a terrible headache. Resulting her to go to bed in a foul mood and waking up with her headache even worse than before, deciding to walk all the way to the construction site to ease her throbbing head, knowing for sure that they’ll continue their fight when they both come home.

She sulks, trying to curl up into a ball but her legs reflexively shoots out, forgetting the sores on her feet that she attained after coming home exhausted and sleeping with her shoes on. The whole entire time of the monster meeting, her fear and anxiety muting the pain until she realized last minute when taking off her shoes to go to bed. Hoping that the job will have some light work for her to do, while she does hate to drag her co-workers down, she knows she needs to take it easy. First her jacked arm, then her medicine and now her feet, she’s really pushing herself now more than ever. Thinking back that she never had to take it this easy since that time with the three thugs and the bunny monsters. Thankfully she remembered before she left to check for any spare canisters that might have some life in them, she just shoved whatever she could find into her bag. Knowing full well that the attributing pain will only cause her stress levels to rise along with working with Sans’s brother. Thinking, if Papyrus is anything like Sans, and she doesn’t doubt that, her heart will be in a constant state of panic, causing her lugs to tense up over the anxiety that he’ll surely give her. That is, she hopes that the only monsters she will ever have to converse with are the ones she’s worked with at the site. In addition, she does have Joe with her, grateful that he’s accompanying her on this job, since Joe knows her limits just as much as she does.

After a while, the line of trucks finally reached their destination, the South Eastern Harbor. The port covered in a thin layer of fog as waves can be heard swelling and crashing against the docks. Out in the distance is a huge chain-link fence, far taller than the ones circling the construction sites in Central, the fence enclosing around the commercial ports. From what they could see through the fog, the faded outline of a massive form, appearing to be a few ships docked at the port. As they move closer, the main entrance was already opened and the security guard, standing by the guard box, gives the drivers the ‘Okay’ and waves them in. Passing through the main gate, Frisk pulls herself together, figures that Papyrus must already be waiting for them on the account that the guard didn’t stop them while being accompanied with monsters in the other truck. She chugs the last bit of her coffee and puts her shoes on at the same time Joe stands up, placing his arms on the roof of the truck, on the lookout for what Frisk described to him as a very tall skeleton. Though it doesn’t take long for Joe to spot him and comment that she wasn’t exaggerating.

Joe whistling low, his eyes wide in astonishment, “Jeez he’s ginormous!” he exclaimed.

Frisk kneeling down, not sure how close they are to Papyrus, she peeks over and spots him flagging the crew down. He also appears to be not alone, it wasn’t Sans that is accompanying him, but a massive werewolf looking monster. The monster is just as tall as the skeleton next to him, though what the werewolf monster had that Papyrus lacked in is girth. The monster big and muscular and only wearing… red tattered pants? Other than that, Frisk could only wonder about the new addition to the job. Automatically thinking anyone who’s friends with Sans and Papyrus must be a foe.

Papyrus directs the trucks to back in towards him and his companion, with the beds facing towards the docks. One by one, the men exited their vehicles and crowd around Papyrus, he addresses them accordingly.

“HUMANS! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, THOUGH YOU MAY JUST CALL ME PAPYRUS. THOSE OF YOU WHO MAY BE WONDERING WHERE MY BROTHER, SANS MIGHT BE. HE IS OUT ATTENDING TO HIS OWN MATTERS AND I HAVE DEEMED IT NECESSARY THAT I SHOULD BE THE ONE TO SUPERVISE YOU." He declared. Some of the men already feeling uneasy at his first impression. “THIS VESSEL BEHIND ME IS THE SHIP WE MONSTERS USE TO EXPORT AND IMPORT GOODS, THE VERY SHIP WE’LL BE UNLOADING STUFF OFF.” Papyrus in the way of Frisk’s view, she leans to look behind the skeleton and spots a small wooden vessel. Though, Papyrus continues his explanation, bringing Frisk back from the view. Papyrus placing a bony hand on the werewolf’s shoulder, “THIS HERE IS JIMMY, HE IS THE ONE WHO GOT THIS SHIP HERE IN ONE PIECE, ITS ONLY APPROPRIATE THAT HE WILL ASSIST YOU IN GETTING THIS JOB COMPLETE. NOW AS FOR THE REST OF YOU, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL ASSIGN YOU YOUR JOBS SO THAT THERE WILL BE ORDER ESTABLISHED HERE.” He asserted.

The men being briefed one by one, Papyrus doing his homework, studied up on the men when Sans gave him their folders the night before. Once briefed on their positions, Frisk, Joe, Aaron and Andrew make their way towards the boat to get a better look at it. Trivially smaller than the big ships that were docked nearby. The motor powered vessel looked like it didn’t have more than two levels. A small bridge placed on the middle of the deck and towards the bow is a motor powered rig, used to lower a pallet into a huge opening in the deck that lead into the depths of the ship’s hull. On the boat’s hull, normally reads the boat’s prefix and name, but as for what they can tell there wasn’t even a prefix to identify the ship’s use or propose, just only a name that reads _DRIFTWOOD_.

“Pfft… Driftwood? Who named this poor thing?” Joe snorted, hiding his mocking grin under his hand.

“Well, its name definitely suit it,” responded Aaron.

“Lacking a bit in creativity if ya ask me…” Frisk sounded, completely dumbfounded of the name choice.

“Well look on the bright side, this thing’s tiny, it’s not gonna take us long at all to unload it,” Andrew declared with sheer confidence in his voice.

Frisk, not wanting to add to the comment, decides to have a closer look at the deck. Her friends follow as they make their way up a small ramp leading to the vessel’s port side. Noticing even though the boat is small, it is well comparable to a fishing vessel. Then they make their way towards the hole in the deck, they circle around and gazed towards the dark abyss. Unable to see anything until they could feel the boat rocking, they all turn their attention towards port and spots the werewolf monster heading their way.

“Ummm heading down?” Joe asked, curiously. Seeing that Jimmy continued making his way towards the group, making Joe assume that the wolf’s destination is the ship’s hull. The group all took a step back as Jimmy didn’t think twice to jumping in the hole and disappears into the darkness. The men encircle the hole once again, waiting to hear or see something, they did hear a soft thump and then a sight of a light emerging from the darkness and it glowing brighter. Jimmy finding himself a lantern, illuminating the room that he’s in, along with huge stacks of boxes. The boxes piled up so high that it almost reached the surface, it was so tall that they could use it as a makeshift means to climbing down if they needed to. Then Frisk, Joe and Aaron’s faces scrunches, estimating the amount of work that’ll be needed to put out in order to get this job done, they assume the job will take more than a couple of days to finish. On top of that, because of the monster who is supervising the work order, they can only work until sunset. If it were Sal or some other human supervising the job, they’d get to stay there even after hours to get the job done, but that wasn’t the case for them. Judging by the amount of boxes and the use of the only means of getting the heavier items out, they recall back to Andrew’s previous statement of the job being easy. All three glaring at him, as if he jinxed their luck in finishing the task with ease.

Andrew stares back at his colleagues, feeling their unbridled glares as he puts his hands up in a form of surrender, “What!? Okay Okay I’m sorry… Fine! I’ll handle the winch,” he blurted, seeing the blood lust in his friends eyes. Even though the position for motor rig operator was already established that it should be Aaron, it’s only reasonable that Andrew should do it. Though normally with jobs like these,  when the positions aren’t established, Frisk and her fellow co-workers debate usually through a game of Rock-Paper-Scissors in who does the tedious work while the rest do the more versatile labor. In this case, it appears Andrew caught on, all visually agreeing that the rig will be Andrew’s punishment for jinxing them.

Frisk and Joe disembark the vessel, leaving Andrew and Aaron on the ship, as Andrew is operating the motorized rig and Aaron assisting the cargoes rise and descend from the ship’s hull. Frisk grouping with the rest of her coworkers, in charge of taking the boxes from the pallets and carrying them over to the trucks. As for Papyrus, Joe and a huge monster, they’re tasked with loading the trucks. While Frisk and her coworkers are standing by, they could see the first few crates rising from the ship’s hull. Jimmy starting them off with the heavier stuff first.

  **Jeez already starting out to the extreme…** Frisk dreaded. Then she hears her colleagues comment.

“Wow, starting us off with the heavy stuff already?” One of the men whistles low, “looks like that thing weighs a ton.”

“Heh… I don’t think Spara knows how much a ton is,” another commented, mockingly. Directing his comment to his companion while eyeing Frisk.

Then one of the men calls out to Frisk, “Yo Frizzy, ya’know how much a ton weighs?”

Frisk rolling her eyes, trying to pay attention to the pallet of boxes that is slowly making its decent to the dock. “Sigh… I don’t know, like as heavy as an elephant?”

“I thought you don’t believe elephants are real?”

“That’s what Salvador told me, and I still don’t think they’re real,” she stated, irritated.

Joe calls out, couldn’t help but to add to the conversation, “Remember, Frizzy’s never been to a circus ta see one!”

“Ohh yeah! Okay, maybe this year we can take ya if one sets up nearby.” One of the men offered.

“Why go to a circus when we already have a carnival every year?” Frisk asked, not seeing the point of going out of town to see entertainment instead of just staying put.

“Cause they don’t have elephants in carnivals,” an older coworker responded.

The men laughed, knowing the statement to be true, Frisk couldn’t help but to feel like they’re mocking her for her ignorance and never making any time to have fun in her life. Though after the pallet finally makes its way down, they all put on serious faces as they prepare themselves for a heavy labor inducing day.

 

* * *

 

The men have spent a good two hours working nonstop. Everyone pacing themselves in a timely manner, as for Frisk, trying to save energy by going slow and easy. Carrying the boxes timely enough to have the adrenaline pumping through her veins to forget the pain in her feet, though easy enough that her breathing won’t become erratic. Handing her loads to Joe as he keeps an eye on her and praising Frisk every time she handed him another box. Papyrus, placing the items handed to him in the truck bed accordingly, haven’t seem to be slowing down or losing momentum. He raise his head and could see everyone working in their own rhythm, not slowing or wavering in effort either, but notices Frisk taking a few moments between getting back to the pallet and moving down to pick up another box. Papyrus stops the next person to hand him another box and assigns them to take his spot for loading. He marches over to Frisk who is standing by, her hand propping herself up against a tall stack of crates as she takes a few deep breaths before bending over to grab the box in front of her.

“LITTLE HUMAN!” she jumps in response. Completely caught off guard to his approach, not hearing him make a sound at all.

She could feel the dread overwhelming her as she turns her head to look at him. Wondering what she’s done to get him to call her out, “Uhhh… Yes, Papyrus?”

“LITTLE HUMAN, THIS IS COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE! ALL THE OTHER HUMANS AND MONSTERS ARE PULLING THEIR OWN WEIGHT, YOU MUST WORK HARDER.”

“Oh… is that it…?” she puts herself ease, thinking that it’s not much of a big deal. Letting herself know, just try to go a bit faster.

“I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, IS AWARE OF YOUR AS-TE-MA,” he stated.

“What?” she blurted, her face grows pale and her eyes widened. Even though his pronunciation was off she could tell what he’s referring to. Automatically knows what he’s referring to, but still how? It could be that Sans found out about it, but what about Papyrus? **How does he know about that?** She thought, her heart rate slowly increasing. Thinking back to when Sans told her that he’d forget that the incident ever happened, but since she never agreed to those terms, she thinks that he ended up squealing to his brother, thinking **I really can’t trust him at all.**

“AH YES, IT IS MENTIONED IN THAT FILE MY BROTHER PRESENTED TO ME. DO NOT FRET HUMAN, FOR I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE DONE AN EXTENSIVE READ ON YOU AND ALL OF YOUR ASSOCIATES. SO I KNOW AS MUCH AS YOUR FILES ENTAILED,” he sounded reassuringly.

Once she heard the word ‘file’, it was for certain, it answered how Sans knew where she lived, but it was nothing compared to knowing her shortcoming. So if Sans knew and he just gave her file to Papyrus, then the whole mafia must know, or at least that’s what she assumes. Unsure as what she could do, well for starters, probably yelling at Sal if not killing him when she outlives her ever growing panic attack about handing her file to a monster mob. Though before she could contemplate more, Papyrus interrupts her sound judgement.

“IF THIS ASTEMA IS YOUR ONLY WEAKNESS, THEN I SHALL HELP YOU OVERCOME THIS, HUMAN. ALL WE NEED TO DO IS HELP YOU INCREASE YOUR ENDURANCE AND YOUR ASTEMA WILL BE GONE BEFORE YOU KNOW IT.”

“Wait what?” she gasped, totally at a loss. Having no idea what he’s talking about. **There’s no way to treat it, he knows that… right? It stated in the file… RIGHT!?**

He orders Frisk to pick up the box in front of her and began driving her, berating her to take the box and increase her pace. He strides back and forth alongside her, pushing Frisk to carry the load at the same pace as her colleagues. Pushing her for a few rounds so long so that the sun finally manages to dissipate the remaining fog. Going on and on, her wool blazer slowly feeling heavy from the amount of sweat she’s accumulated and it wasn’t long until the tightening sensation slowly resonates in her chest.  She stops at the base of the freight, Papyrus tapping his foot and his arms crossed. Frisk, bent over and breathing erratically, unable to exhale in one continuous blow, exhaling in burst of pairs. Breathing in at a steady flow and exhaling twice.

_inhale-out out-inhale –out out_

She looks up at Papyrus, who didn’t looked impressed at all. Thinking what he’s trying to do for her is quite considerate of him, and also thinking maybe he knew something that she don’t. Though it proved to be a fruitless endeavor, a method she has tried before and failed. Wondering that maybe he’s trying to kill her by over exhaustion, but the expression in his face is genuine, really believing that some amount of hard work and effort will really cure her disease. However, she knows that it can’t be cured that easily. She has to make it stop, she can’t keep going like this forever she’ll run out of air and pass out before the day even ends.

“Papyrus…” she huffs. Scared to even question him, but more scared of collapsing before him. She continues, “I know… what your tr… trying to do… i-is help… but-”

“NO DO NOT EVEN TRY TO MAKE EXCUSES HUMAN. IT’LL BE HARD AT FIRST, BUT I BELIEVE YOU WILL BECOME STRONGER, TRUST ME,” he asserted, sticking to his resolve. Papyrus making Frisk continue where she left off, and him back to hounding her back and forth.

Joe seeing the brunt of her effort, every time she makes her way back from the freight, he could see a bit of color peeling away from her face. Determined do something to ease her breathing, once Frisk came back to hand another box, Joe places his hands under Frisk’s and holds her there. With her holding the box, he pulls her hands to himself, pulling Frisk and leaning in to her ear.

He whispers, “Frizzy, take deep breaths, just hang on a little bit longer. The guys got you,” he slowly looks away, leading her eyes towards the other two trucks. The other two that are tasked with loading, working extra hard trying to fill the trucks. With every break between placing the boxes down and waiting for the next load, they glance over to Frisk, nodding and mouthing ‘just hold on’, 'You can do it'.

Frisk in response, couldn’t, her mouth hanging open just huffing and puffing. Feeling the air escape out of her as nothing went in, hurting trying to inhale. Though seeing as how fast her coworkers are going, they weren’t too far from finishing up this first load, she manages to glance up back at Joe and makes a shaky nod. He lets go of her hands and grabs the box, and nods.

She darts back, that brief moment gave some reprieve. Enough time to remind herself to breathe deeper, much deeper.

_Breathe… Even though it hurts… Just breathe…_

It didn’t take long for the men to finishing loading the first two trucks, all of them worried that Papyrus would notice and make Frisk work faster, but the skeleton kept all of his attention on her. All that was left for them is loading the last truck Frisk’s assigned to, with one other guy also assigned, a stocky guy manages to sneak into the formation and help fill up the rest of the truck bed. Joe waiting for the last box, Frisk sprints her way and hands off the box to him, almost losing her footing at the same time, but manages to catch herself by softening the hard impact to the truck with her hands.

“Boss, we’re done!” Joe called out, seeing Frisk out of breath making him sweat with panic as he was panting almost as hard as her.

Frisk finally has a chance to stop, completely leans against the walls of the truck bed, drool running down her chin. Trying so hard to take in air, that it immediately gets expelled before it had time to sit in. Now able to feel her heart beating hard against her chest, her air ways feeling to tighten as she stood idle. She coughs feeling the mucus built up, even causing more difficulty to breathe.

Joe taking notice right away, he turns his attention to her, “Frizzy, you can’t stand there, ya need ta walk it out,” he ordered.

Papyrus making his way towards Frisk and Joe, putting his attention on Frisk, “YOU DID EXCELLENT, HUMAN. NOW, YOU’LL JUST HAVE TO KEEP THAT PACE AND YOU’LL BE BETTER IN NO TIME. AS WELL AS THIS JOB.”

Joe taking a gamble in talking out of line, getting the skeleton monster’s attention, “Boss, can you take it a bit easy on the guy? He has breathin’ troubles.”

“OH I AM VERY AWARE, THOUGH YOU DON’T HAVE TO WORRY. I KNOW WHAT I’M DOIN’,” he stated, confidently.

Before Joe could elaborate, Papyrus turns his attention to the rest of the crew, excusing them to take a break as the monsters go take the trucks to the drop off point. Frisk still gasping for air, can’t seem to pull herself away from the truck bed that is keeping her up. Joe grabs her bag and moves himself under Frisk’s arm, securing her arm over his shoulder, his hand wrapped around her wrist and another around her waist, and straightening her posture. Her feeling her passage ways opening up, still hard for her to breathe, she could feel a stabbing sensation resonating from her rib cage. Joe takes Frisk away, taking her towards the port’s edge and sits her on a mooring bollard, having her face the open ocean. He releases her arm, where she instinctively places her hands on her head, Joe spotting Aaron and Andrew disembarking the Driftwood, he waves the brothers over to their location.

Once the four are reunited, Frisk focusing on breathing exercises, digging through her bag and taking any puff she could get out of the canisters. Trying to get enough for a full dose, though most coming up with almost close to nothing as to what she needs in order to get the amount of medication needed to circulate through her body. As for the other three, they sit on the port’s edge, their legs dangling over the water that was 5ft below them, with their lunch boxes on their laps. Joe elaborates to the brothers in great detail as what transpired.

“Ohhhhhh… So that’s why we’re takin’ a break early,” enlightened Aaron. “Can’t you just tell him that Frizzy’s condition is incurable?”

“What the hell you think I was tryin’ ta do?” Joe exasperated. “I tried tellin’ the fucker and he's completely blew me off!”

Frisk managing to take off her blazer that feels like 20lbs on her shoulders. Even going one step further by unbuttoning her button down, luckily learning from her mistake in the women’s bathroom, is wearing a short sleeved white undershirt. As well as taking off her socks and shoes and massaging her feet, being careful of the sores.

“How ya holdin’ up, Frizz?” Andrew asked, noticing her movement from his peripheral.

“Just barely…” she managed.

The other two look back, glad to see that she’s breathing normally, though taking note on her injuries.

“That arm’s still looks just as bad as yesterday,” pointed Joe.

Frisk taking no heed in her arm’s condition, continues massaging.

“Yeah, but that must be killing him more,” Aaron commented, talking about her feet.

“THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE!” bellowed a familiar voice.

The men all turn their gaze up a few feet above Frisk and there he was, Papyrus, looming over Frisk. Frisk’s face pales just even hearing the skeleton behind her, frozen in terror, but curious as to where his uproar was directed to. She looks straight up, now certain that his disappointed tone is aimed at her, her leg resting on her knee and her foot clutched in her hands.

Papyrus looking down and seeing some of the sores have broken open. He makes his way around Frisk and kneels before her, “IF THIS IS THE CAUSE OF YOUR LACK IN PERFORMANCE YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME!” he scolded, grabbing her foot forcefully.

Joe and Aaron shot up, confused and frantic as what he’s doing to their friend. Since Papyrus being so tall, they couldn’t see what Frisk is seeing first hand. Papyrus’s hand glowing blue and green with both of her feet in front of him, running his bony palms over her sores. She hisses and her face scrunches as a reflex to the feeling of his palms pressed against the open wounds, but the feeling only lasting momentarily. She could see the sores slowly swell down, then the open tissue close up and the redness fade away, not even leaving a single scar. He steps back for the others to see, Frisk’s sore and swollen feet are completely healed.

“Woah!” Andrew totally astonished.

Frisk completely loss for words, she didn’t even know that monsters were capable of such things, and this one. This one monster that she has deemed to be her foe, healed her. **Why? How and Why?** Wanting to test if it’s probably an illusion, she scoots off the mooring bollard, standing on her bare feet. Clarifying any suspicion that she has, but also at the same time complicates things for her. Expecting the sharp ringing of pain flowing up her legs was nonexistent. As if her sores never ailed her at all, her feet feeling good as new. Even though, this should be something to celebrate about, couldn’t help but feel that this whole situation feels so wrong. Everything she knew about mafias, even if it is their strange customs, she couldn’t help but feel like her treatment is all bitter sweet.

At first, she thought nothing about Undyne’s request, even though she thought it should have sounded like an order, it was completely disregarded by how they showcased their lack of trust in her. Though, that little slip up is nothing, nothing compared to the kindness that Papyrus displayed just now. **No… Mafias kill, they steal… they enslave. Even if I’m working for them, they’ll never consider me their own. Mafias will even go to lengths to hire a hitman to get rid of their own hitman. So why? Why bother healing me? Mafia kill people like me, toss me away like I was nothing… And I should be nothing! To them anyway! That how they’re supposed to treat me… that’s how he treated me…** Her thoughts resounded, thinking of Sans and his mistreatment of her. **I’m just going to be used, to end up being thrown away…** she could feel herself getting emotional. The don, Sans’ brother, Papyrus, showed her mercy. Though she knows that maybe it’s just their way of showing that she could trust him, even if she knows that, it didn’t stop making the situation feel crueler.

Joe, showing on the same skepticism as what Frisk was feeling, couldn’t help bust ask, “Well?”

“Thank you…” she stated, her head low. Though couldn’t believe she spoke those words as it came right out of her mouth. Knowing that her gratitude will mean nothing to him once they’ve got what they wanted from her. “I don’t feel any pain at all,” she managed. Looking up at the skeleton monster in the eye, with a quivering smile on her face.

Papyrus takes a moment, seeing this side of her that he’s never seen before. Usually thinking that humans are one track minded, the only expressions that he’s ever got from her was the sheer respect she had for him (or at least that’s what he thinks). No smiles, no grimace, just showing the upmost respect for someone as great as him, always thinking that the human is a focused individual that only means business. Now, he’s caught off-guard. It’s not new to him to heal his fellow monster mobsters, technically, that was his job for the first 3 years he’s been there. So of course when a wounded monster came in, there was no time to ask questions, no time for answers and definitely no time for ‘thank yous’, normally that being implied anyway. However, the last person he was ever told ‘thank you’ for healing them, was his brother Sans, back when he started off as a lowly solider, he couldn’t help but make that comparison with her. Her even smiling at Papyrus over something that takes little to no effort in doing.

Papyrus, though remembering his position, shakes off the warm confusing feeling and smiles, “DON’T SWEAT IT, HUMAN! THIS IS NOTHING THAT THE GREAT PAPYRUS COULDN’T HANDLE.”

“Hey boss, do you think you could heal that too?” Joe pointed.

Papyrus looking at Joe and turns to where he’s pointing. Directing his attention to Frisk who was at a loss, then gauges where his finger was aimed at, she raised her jacked up arm, “What, this?” she asked. “I told you that it’s just sprained,” she directed at Joe.

Papyrus holds her arm and inspects it, taking note of the many scars that riddled her arm. Though he assumes that what they want him to heal is the bruise, then without even saying a word, he motions his hand over her bruised elbow and just like her feet, but with everyone watching this time, could see the purplish black color dissipate.

“CHILD’S PLAY!” He remarked with a smug grin on his face, releasing her arm and watching her reaction.

Frisk pressed on where the bruise was, the only way she could feel pain at the time, and as she pressed, just like before there was no sharp pain at all. The three men surround her, looking at her expression, trying to see her wince in pain, but to no avail. Frisk clarifies this by shaking her head, shaking her head to tell them that there was no feeling of pain at all.

“WOW! It’s completely gone!” astonished Aaron.

“Hey can you do me next?” Andrew pointing to himself.

Papyrus feeling like he's on a roll accepts. “SURE! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?” Papyrus demanded, placing his hands on his hips and looking over the younger Bonoviso brother.

“I have-”

“Low self-esteem,” Aaron finishing Andrew’s statement without warning.

Joe and Frisk couldn’t help but laugh. As for Papyrus, finding the banter familiar to him and his own brother's bickering.

Andrew punching his brother for that smart assed remark, tells Papyrus of his problem and with the same confidence as before, heals Andrew of his pain.

“FANOMINAL! My back feels like new!” he exclaimed.

“You’re not half bad, boss,” Joe stated. “I’d offer you a seat to join us, but uhhh… on the account that you’re made of bone’n everything, and make you feel left out that you can’t-”

“WHY THANK YOU, SCRUFFY HUMAN! I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE LUNCH WITH YOU!” the scruffy human title being aimed at Joe.

“Uhhh… wut?” the words trailed out of Joe’s mouth as the look of confusion dawned his face. Accompanying that with the otherwise perplexity of everyone else’s faces around him. Everyone not sure, as to what they registered was real. Papyrus, a skeleton. Is going to have lunch, with humans. The statement already lost to them, but then they all rationally agreed once they see Papyrus leaving, that he’s probably just wanted company. Though, as they could see Papyrus strolling back to the group with a dish and a lid covering it, steam flowing up to the air, they shockingly thought that the skeleton is dead serious in having lunch with them.

Papyrus, completely ignorant of the looks of confusion, chooses to sit right next to Joe, to the left of Joe, while Frisk being placed just between the two behind them, taking her seat on the mooring bollard. Papyrus looking with anticipation, staring down the line of men who couldn’t help but stare.

“SO LET US EAT!” he declared.

Joe fighting off the contradicting judgment in his head, feels that it is only right to inform Papyrus of their lunch time ritual. Finding the appropriate way to start is going down how they usually do with Andrew going first and instead of Frisk going last, it’d be Papyrus. Hopefully, by the time they get to him that their initial shock will have settled down. So with no complaints, Papyrus agrees, thinking that they, of course, should save the best for last. Down the line of men, Andrew, Aaron and Joe, showcased their lunches, Papyrus at the same time taking note to the humans’ choice of meal. Then, the men turn their attention to Frisk, who is still seated on the bollard, she opens her box and reveals a similar meal to the others; an egg salad sandwich with grapes and cheese.

“Holy shit! Frizzy, did ya make that?” Andrew asked in amazement.

“No, this is Salvador’s payment for me helpin’ him…” she takes a moment to think of a better word, knowing if she told anyone out of confidentiality, Sal could get harassed by her coworkers. “… With Froggit’s incident back then.”

“Oh! That’s that monster case we heard about from Matty,” Aaron figures, grouping Andrew with him when he mentioned the word ‘we’. “Ya finally got that settled?”

“Jeez, I thought THAT was settled, long ago,” Joe stated with irritation in his voice, using his fingers to count out something as he’s running numbers in his head. “It’ll be 12 years in winter, right?” He supposed.

Frisk nodded, haven’t put much thought into it for a while. Though reassures them, “Yeah, as payment for helping him, he made me lunch.”

“He made you lunch instead of payin’ ya?” Andrew chimed in.

“Heh, he probably saw that sorry excuse of a lunch ya hand yesterday and felt sorry for ya,” added Joe.

“WHAT ‘SORRY EXCUSE FOR A LUNCH’?” Papyrus asked, the particular phrase peaking his interest.

“Oh nothin’ ta be concerned about, boss,” Joe waves his hand. “Frizzy here’s too cheap to buy his own food and too lazy to figure out how to make his own lunch.”

“Hey Joe, I’m capable of coming up with my own excuse thank you very much.” Frisk declared, irritated that Joe should enlighten a monster that didn’t need to hear their life story.

“IS THIS TRUE, TINY HUMAN?”

“Ya’know Papyrus, you don’t have to keep callin’ me ti-”

“IS THIS TRUE!?” He raised his voice.

“Yes yes,” she puts her hands up in surrender. “But I’m not lazy, I just don’t know how…” she added, meagerly. As if she’s embarrassed to admit it.

“WELL THEN, THIS WON’T DO! BUT WORRY NOT, NOT ONLY IS THE GREAT PAPYRUS AN EXCELLENT HEALER, I AM ALSO AN EXCELLENT CHEF!”

“You?” Asked Aaron.

“Cook?” Finished Andrew.

“NYEH HEH HEH!” Papyrus smiled, holding out his dish, lifting the cover off of it and revealing a plate of spaghetti with tomato sauce and garnished with some parsley and cheese. “WALLAH! MY SIGNATURE DISH!”

The group hover over the dish, the dish itself emitting steam and a quaint fragrance from it, Joe, Aaron and Andrew couldn’t help but do a few double takes, triple takes, looking at Papyrus and then the dish. The three making mental notes on how a skeleton monster knows how to cook, why he knows how to cook and the bigger question if he can eat anything at all.

Frisk on the other hand, is more concerned on how the dish managed to emanate steam, even looking around the harbor knowing full well that there’s not a kitchen anywhere near their vicinity for miles. Then eventually her mind catching up to what the others were already thinking. The look of pure shock as she looks at the skeleton’s waist, staring to see if maybe he and his brother aren’t complete skeletons, probably monsters with fuzzy or leathery bodies with skulls attached to them… and bony hands. She stares, staring to find signs of life, the subtle deflation to his chest as he exhaled, the expanding of his stomach… something! However, no slight movements at all, maybe he is a complete skeleton? Wondered Frisk, but it didn’t satisfy anything, there was still the question of if he can make food then why and how can he eat it? How does he eat it?

“I CAN SEE THE LOOK OF PURE AMAZEMENT ON YOUR FACES, YES, I AM A MASTERFUL COOK THAT TOOK ME MANY YEARS TO BECOME THE CONNOISSEUR THAT I AM TODAY. THOUGH, DON’T BE DISCOURAGED, TINY HUMAN! WITH MY HELP, LIKE YOUR ASTEMA, I CAN MAKE YOU A JUST AS MASTERFUL CHEF, LIKE MOI, IN A MATTER OF DAYS!” He went on. The men all ignoring Papyrus at this point, all just wanting to see him take a bite out of his dish. However, before he could motion to it, he turns his head to see the trucks making their return back to the harbor. “AHH, EXCELLENT TIMING!” he stands, placing the cover back onto his dish. “I GUESS I SHOULD SAVE THIS FOR LATER SINCE THEY’RE BACK NOW,” he waves at the men. “PLEASE MAKE HASTE HUMANS, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, EXPECTS YOUR STEADILY RETURN, AND HUMAN?” he sets his attention to Frisk. “PLEASE COME AN SEE ME WHENEVER YOU WANT TO HAVE THAT COOKING LESSON,” he offered as he walks away with his dish.

The men all waiting for Papyrus to reach out of earshot turned to one another, “Man… I really wanted to see him take a bite out of that dish!” exclaimed Aaron.

“I know, right?” added Joe. “What a letdown.”

“You think it might just be a practical joke? He can’t really eat, can he?”

Joe and Andrew shrugged.

“Ah better luck next time.” Joe finished.

All the while, Frisk watching as Papyrus marches away, then the sudden realization that the day isn’t over and he’ll most likely berate her again. She woofs down her food, the men taking note.

Joe changing his tone to sound serious, “Frizzy, change spots with Drew if it’s too much for you,” he stated. Frisk looking over and sees Andrew nodding in agreement.

“Yeah… I think I’ll do just that,” she said, calmly. Taking a look at Andrew and thanking him, dreading and hoping that when they do the switch Papyrus wouldn’t notice.

 

* * *

 

The men had started off their day around what was guesstimated as 6am sunrise, finishing up around 5pm, a couple of hours before sunset. Though, like how the crew guessed, there was still more than half left in the boat. As well as like they’ve guessed, it’ll take probably another day and a half to finish the job that they were tasked. Some of the men talking amongst themselves, figuring if they should get more trucks so that there weren’t be so much down time, as they originally thought that three trucks would be enough. Especially how fast the monsters came and went, taking the cargo to god-knows-where, but for some of the other items, they took even longer to return, assuming that not all the items are going to one place.

As the final truck makes its way back, Papyrus waves the men over to thank them personally for a job well done and to see them the same time tomorrow, but the last people he needed to thank were standing by the empty pallet and the other two packing the last of the stuff in the back of the truck. Frisk bent over huffing and puffing, as Joe props her up by her arm over his shoulder, she held out as long as she could for the final stretch. The switch she did with Andrew giving her more time to breathe, but didn’t last long as Papyrus took notice around the final few hours. As for the Bonoviso brothers both packing the water and coffee dispensers and tossing Frisk bag in the back. Papyrus makes his way towards the straggling group, first approaching the Bonoviso brothers and thanking them and finally leaving Joe and Frisk for last.

Frisk coughing hard, hacking up the built up mucus in her throat while Joe rubs her back. Joe spotting Papyrus nearing them, he lets up his handle on Frisk. Frisk, out of reflex, grabs hold of his arm, wanting to use anything to keep her body from floating idly. Joe didn’t deny Frisk’s sudden hold to keep her from falling and looks up at the skeleton monster.

“THANK YOU FOR YOUR HARD WORK. YA DID WELL, HU-”

“Listen, boss,” Joe cutting off Papyrus mid-sentence. “You have to take it easy on my buddy here.” Joe changing his approach as he addressed him, figures that he should demand instead of asked when focusing on Frisk’s well being.

“DO NOT WORRY HUMAN, IT MAY LOOK PAINFUL BUT I’M SURE THAT THIS METHOD OF MINE WILL PAY OFF SOON,” he assured.

“You don’t know what you’re doin’!” Joe exclaimed. “It doesn’t work that way, his ailment can’t be cured. Never be cured!” him determined to get Papyrus to consider Frisk’s condition.

“INFEASIBLE! ANY SICKNESS CAN BE CURED WITH DETERMINATION AND HARD WORK, ALL THE LITTLE HUMAN HAS TO DO IS FIGHT.”

Joe losing patience, lunges forward, but gets held back by Frisk tightening her grip on his wrist. He looks down at her as he noticed the lack of sounds coming from her and assumed that something was wrong. Though it proved to be quite the opposite, her breathing sounding less wheezy and her chest not heaving as much. She glances up at Joe and looks him in the eye and shakes her head. Just like the food that they saw Papyrus never ate, assuming that he probably doesn’t know how to taste or eat, coming to the conclusion that he’ll never understand the pain Frisk is going through. A skeleton who doesn’t eat or breathe, explaining something to him about something he doesn’t have would be wasted. However, Joe couldn’t help but try to make an attempt to get the monster to understand.

“I’m not sure if you noticed this, but Frizzy is the most determined man I know and the hardest working man I know. Don’t tell him that he has to fight, cause he’s been fighting all his life and it’s never paid off!” he stated, his expression calm and his eyes determined.

Frisk feeling half a daze, catches Joe’s testimony and couldn’t help but feel it sting her with the hard truth that she’s learned to ignore. She always knew that, deep down, the effort she puts and the unwavering determination that she fights to keep within her every day earns her nothing. Though it was her first time hearing Joe point that out to anyone, pointing it out indirectly to her. Knowing Joe for as long as she knew him, she knew the guy is the type to help when he knows when someone needs it, but also the type to mind his own business when he knows that it’s not needed. That’s how she became to be such close friends with him, that and the other thing they had in common, in common with most people of their generation anyway.

She looks up at Papyrus’s face and could see his vision veered low, as if he was glaring at the ground. As for Joe, his stance and his stare resolute, unshaken to the dark aura emitting from Papyrus. Their positions so intense that eventually Papyrus, ignores Joe, thanks Frisk and turns to make his leave.

Joe watching as the skeleton disappear in the distance, feels his knees buckle and collapses straight to the floor, Frisk shocked and convinced that nothing ever shook him.

“Oh jeez, that was the scariest thing I’ve ever done EVER!” he exasperated, though laughs it out as he scratched the back of his head.

“You had me fooled, I thought nothing spooks you,” she figured.

“Oi, I know, right?” He then looks up at her, his eyes narrow, “But seriously Frizzy, I think you need to tell him, tell him yourself, cause maybe he’ll get it if you did,” he advised, seriously.

She releases Joe’s wrist and nods, figuring that it’s probably the best option. She straightens herself and places her hands over hear head, trying to take a deep breath in.

Joe sitting on the ground, looking at the Bonoviso brothers, making their last preparations before calling Frisk and Joe over. “So what chu up to after this?” Joe managed, asking Frisk.

She sighs, “Mmmm… probably get a couple of jobs done,” she motions one of her hands down towards her back pocket.

“Workin’ at Mark’s today?”

 “Yeah, I’m back to workin’ at Mark’s, Charger’s was only a temp thing,” her hand checking her other back pocket.

“Okay, just don’t go fucking around like ya did a few weeks ago.”

“Shut up, dad,” she sarcastically commented. “They’re nothing compared to that and that wasn’t a job, it was a fuckin’ stroke of dumb luck. I have a few jobs that I got jotted down on… my…” her words losing momentum as she could feel just the cloth pressed against her rear end and no bulge that she was expecting to feel. She slides her hand in her pocket, then patting her person.

Joe his attention still kept away from Frisk, could hear the waves of patting sounds, still wondering what she was going to say he looks back towards her, “‘down in your’, what?”

“I left my map!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're liking the chapter titles, I'm tempted to just jot down what the next chapter title will be.


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